My Fault
by elliott ashes
Summary: Ending posted! When Arisa Uotani's life as she knows it begins to fall apart, she's surprised that Kyo Sohma, of all people, seems to understand what she's going through. The two realize they have more in common than they thought, as both must face great changes. KyoUo
1. A Hole in the World

My Fault  
Chapter One  
A Hole in the World

**A note from the author: **Hi, thank you for clicking on my story! My name is Elliott, and this is the first multi-chapter story I have ever written. I started this story around the time I turned fourteen, and now I am twenty and in my third year of the creative writing program at university. I don't think it's too narcissistic of me to say that my writing style has _probably _improved since I first started this story, so I thought I would rewrite the first chapter to give a better impression of what my writing is like now, as I am finishing up the last couple chapters.

I would like to rewrite more chapters too, but right now my priority is finishing the story. Inconsistencies between this chapter and the next are due to me not rewriting that one yet, but I do eventually plan to. Also, in the interest of fair warning, I didn't have much sense of pacing when I first started this story, and the plot picks up at the end of chapter ten – so if you want to skim some of the chapters between now and then, at least until I get around to rewriting them, I wouldn't blame you...

Thank you so much for reading, and sorry for my obscenely long author's note. I would be extremely grateful to hear your thoughts on this chapter and/or the story in general. Also, if you would like to read the original version of this chapter, please say so in a review, email, or private message, and I will be sure to send it to you!

**Rewrite: A Hole in the World**  
(Written March 17, 2012)

**Arisa**

I never used to think much about my first memory.

I could pull it up, when I wanted to think about things, about how I got to where I am. I could feel myself sink back into the sense of new brightness around my small body. My three-year-old arms splash at a sea of coloured spheres, send them darting and spinning. My three-year-old legs kick, churning the liquid-smooth globes. My mouth holds the taste of sweet bean mochi, our lunch. My nose holds the smell of plastic. In the ball pit, I move with a type of wild freedom I'm not used to, suspended in too many dimensions.

Then the colours start closing in, darkening around my face. I sink down down down. Light above me fractures and fades, and the sounds of other kids sharpen to a swarm of mosquitoes in my ears.

And then two hands come down, pull me out and up and hold me close. "It's okay," he says. "I've got you." His chest is warm against my small body, and his arms are strong. He smells like soap and home.

I rarely think of this memory. A few years ago it made me angry, trying to reconcile this figure with the man in my house, the beery poltergeist shouting from the next room. The smell of his breath and skin ingrained in the walls of the house, but him never there when I wanted someone to talk to. I began to forget the sound of his voice, as the tv blared through the walls, laugh track running over the same stale jokes.

I could think of my earliest memory any time I wanted to. This wasn't often.

-/-/-

I was called out of class a few weeks ago. It's strange, hearing your name over the intercom in the middle of a speech, the teacher pausing for the staticky sound of your name as everyone's eyes seek you out. I slid from my chair and walked towards the office, conscious of my heart slamming against my chest – a few years in a gang will do that to you. That irrational suspicion of getting caught. But I held my expression still, kept my pace even. A few years in a gang will do that, too.

The principal handed me the phone without a word. I held the plastic to my face, and I can remember the sweet-breath-smell of the receiver, the feel of the smudged plastic on my fingers, but I don't remember what the voice said, whether the speaker was male or female. All I know was that that memory rose up to the surface of my thoughts and burst into pieces and something in my mind shattered.

I must have hung up, I must have walked from the room, but all I know is that suddenly I was in a different place, listening to my own ragged breathing with tears falling relentlessly down my face. I couldn't stand up. The ground rose up and bent my knees in, and as blackness closed around the edges of my vision I shut my eyes and tried to wake up. Because this wasn't life, not in the realm of what I thought could happen, couldn't be real because if it was there was nothing I could do and it was just too much.

I felt dirty floor under my hands. I felt my insides, the mechanisms of breath and beat and bloodflow, and was amazed by their refusal to stop. My mind spun images out of order, bloodshot eyes brightening, their yellow edges fading to white. Soap washed away the sticky scent of old beer, and the man in a squashed armchair rose to his feet, spine straightening, hairline moving forward. And I missed the feeling of his arms, missed it more than I knew I could ever miss anything.

I thought of the hole in the world where he used to be, where the part of him that meant _life _has fallen though, and my mind closed in on itself.

-/-/-

I don't know how long he was there before I noticed him. And I don't know how much longer he was there before I acknowledged him.

"Hey," he said when I looked up.

This was enough to make me start crying again. He didn't leave. He bent down beside me, and for some reason my first thought was to warn him he'd get his cargo pants dirty. I didn't say this. The effort of pushing words out of my mouth was too overwhelming to even consider at that point.

"Why are you here?" I said, eventually.

"You walked past the classroom. I... I wanted to make sure you were okay." He stared hard at the floor, traced a vague shape on the linoleum. "I guess I knew you weren't," he mumbled, "but I didn't think you should have to be alone."

I meant to say thanks, but it came out, "Why?"

"No one should have to be alone when things get... like this. It's not fair."

"Since when is anything fair," I said, and my voice rose to a single laugh which quickly dissolved into more crying. Not tears, not just tears. A loud, soggy mess that broke out of my body through a process that shook my shoulders and battered my lungs.

He touched my arm, then moved his hand away. "Sorry," he said.

"It's okay," I say. I put my hand back on his, held on tight. I worried I was hurting him, but when I looked up at his face he nodded, his fiery eyes soft.

"How long are you going to stay here?" I asked.

"Until you ask me to go away."

"What if I don't ask that?"

"I'll stay."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

I closed my eyes and listened to us breathing. Memories fell over me, cold as snow, and I realized it wasn't only my hand that was shaking. I wondered what Kyo was remembering.


	2. Whispers

My Fault  
Chapter Two  
Whispers

**rewritten June 30, 2012.**

**Kyo**

_The whispering was the first thing I noticed. No one had bothered to whisper when they complained about me, before. I wondered what I had done. _

_My mom hadn't come home that day. I wasn't used to the freedom. I'd gone for a walk. I had a popsicle for lunch. The taste was in my mouth. Orange. _

_No one had bothered to whisper before. _

_They moved out of the way as I walked down the path. I don't remember their faces anymore. In my memory they are shadows, surrounding me with small, persistent sounds, like an ocean. On and on, until they built up into a roar. _

_I wanted to go back home, but that seemed like surrender. I had as much right to be out here as they did. I was a Sohma too. _

_I fingered the beads around my wrist. _

_It had been a long time since I'd been out of the house. Voices that weren't my mother's sounded strange to me. Wrong. I got so caught up in the wrongness it was hard to separate the sounds into words. _

- doesn't even cry -

- does he know? -

- of course he knows -

- someone should -

- no -

_I walked faster. I can remember every pebble of the path. I was wearing my red sneakers. I had a pebble in the left shoe. _

_That's why I can't remember their faces. I was looking at the ground. _

_"Kyo."_

_A hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see my older cousin, Hatori. _

I didn't do it!_ I could feel my eyes go wide_. It's not my fault! I didn't know I wasn't supposed to go out! I just wanted to see!

_He says, "Could you come with me, please." It isn't a question. _

_He's going to hand me over to Akito. He's going to take me to my father, who will be angry, or worse, will look at me like I'm empty space. _

_Instead, he takes me to the Sohma family gates, where two people in police uniforms stand, waiting. _

_"Kyo Sohma?" asks the man._

-/-/-

I knew something was wrong because I couldn't not know. Because when Arisa - Uo's - name was called over the intercom, and she stood up from her desk, her movements weren't as easy as they usually are. A shadow of confusion passed over her face, brushed away in a second, but I knew I had seen it.

I don't know when I started looking at her so closely.

But even if we fight all the time, it was kind of comforting to know she was here. That someone who swore up and down, someone loud and argumentative, could still seem so comfortable in a place like this.

But she didn't seem comfortable now. When she walked towards the hall she reminded me of myself, younger. Trying to take up more space than I did, because I didn't trust anyone enough to get close.

I made myself look back at the teacher, copy down the diagram of a chemical reaction on the board. But ten seconds later, I was drawing doodles and thinking of Uotani-kun again. Watching the door.

An eternity later, I saw her. Head down like a broken marionette.

My chair scraped the floor and I ran out the door to the sound of murmurs.

I checked every classroom until I found her. Empty classrooms with chairs upturned on the desks. Full classrooms where students stared at me. Classrooms with no sound, and classrooms with the sound of pipes running through the walls.

The last room, I heard crying through the door. The sound was small but desperate, like a trapped animal. I don't think I will ever get it out of my ears; it runs back and forth inside them like the sounds of my own blood. It hurt me that someone like her could have so much sadness inside her. I wanted to fight something, but I didn't know what. Probably something that didn't exist. My fingers were curled up into fists and my arms were shaking, but whatever was inside me didn't feel like adrenaline.

I opened the door quietly. She was on her knees. Bowing to the nothing at the front of the room. Her sandals splayed haphazardly with her ankles, her arms crooked and covering her face. Her hair spread out across the dusty floor like it was reaching for something that could be anywhere. Her shoulders shook.

I didn't want to look at her, and I didn't want to look away. I stood by the door and watched the space over her head.

A long time later, she looked up.

"Hey," I said. I couldn't think of anything better.

She started crying again, and I mentally slapped myself. I had an impulse to leave, why did I think I could help, anyway? But I knew that, now, leaving would be worse.

I sat down beside her on the floor. Knees folded under me, like hers.

"Why are you here?" she said. Her voice was thick, but her tone even. I think she worked hard to make keep it even.

"You walked past the classroom. I… I wanted to make sure you were okay." I drew swirls on the dirty floor, compulsively, like I had on my notes back in the classroom. "I guess I knew you weren't. But I didn't think you should have to be alone."

"Why?" Her voice is a choke.

"No one should be alone when things get… like this. It's not fair."

She voiced what I was thinking. "Since when is anything fair?" More sobs racketed through her.

Without knowing what I was doing, I touched her arm. Her skin was warm. It jolted me back to reality, and I jerked away. "Sorry."

"It's okay." She put her hand on top of mine and laced her fingers through my own. I wondered if she could feel my pulse, beating so fast my chest felt like it would burst, full of too much movement. "How long are you going to stay here?"

"Until you ask me to go away."

"What if I don't ask that?"

"I'll stay."

"Promise."

"Promise." She didn't know I wasn't just talking to her, but myself. Because even though I was overloading all through me, my memories too loud, I KNEW that staying there might be the most important thing I'd ever done.

**Arisa**

I knew I owed him an explanation. "My dad -" I'm cut off as something moved inside me, something amorphous and too-big, like an ocean. It overfilled every part of me and forced itself out as crying, waves crashing into every vertebrae on the way.

"You don't have to tell me," he said.

"I want to."

"You can tell me later."

I shook my head. A migraine shifted from side to side. "He died."

I gripped his hand tighter. I worried I was hurting him. But he took my other hand, too. I held on to him, hands over hands, and he helds back.

"He - drank -" The ocean slammed me with each syllable, but I couldn't stop. "Too - too - much."

It was too much. I had to stand, run through a black dizzy fog and be sick in the trash. And then I was on the ground again.

"I'm… I'm sorry," said Kyo. I've never heard him like this before. "Oh god. That's awful."

"It's not your fault," I said. Nothing was funny, but I laughed. Just once. It felt like suffocating.

"It's not yours, either."

I felt as though I would fall apart, literally. A leg here, an arm there. A dismantled pile on the floor. There wasn't enough left to hold me together.

He was beside me again. His hand on my shoulder. I leant into him, though I knew I was dirty, my face wet and my clothes covered in dust. I didn't know why that matters, or why anything did. I knew I wouldn't be like this if anything, really, didn't matter, but I couldn't say why. Nothing made sense.

**Kyo**

I don't know what my plan was, or if I had one. Did I mean to run away?

No. That couldn't have been it. I know that.

I wanted to do something. Even if that something was a horrible idea, I had to.

Someone had to, and I was the only one there.

"Can I hug you?"

She nodded.

I put my arms around her and held on.


	3. Window

My Fault

Chapter 3

Window

Disclaimer: Kyo, Arisa, Tohru, Yuki, Shigure, and anyone else mentioned do not belong to me.

This chapter actually progresses the story, and is told from Yuki's POV. Yes, Yuki's. He's not going to be another main character though, its still a KyoUo fic.

Thanks to deadlykitty, pinksnow, and Lumias for your very supportive reviews. Now, on with the story!

Guide to the Japanese:

Baka: Stupid

Neko: Cat

When the school day was over, Honda-san and I walked home together. The baka neko had left class in the middle of the day and hadn't returned. This didn't bother me much; he was always doing foolish things.

It was nice, just being around Honda-san. She had the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. Not only that, but she was able to make _me _smile. She was the only person who had ever been able to do that. It's like she can just melt away all that bad things that have happened to me and allow me to focus on the present. This beautiful present where I am able to know a person like her, and be able to talk and laugh with them. It's the most beautiful feeling in the world.

Still, something inside of me was still hurting, still fearing, and still feeling guilty. I knew that Honda-san would be better off away from all of this, away from me. In the end, I was sure that I would only end up hurting her. I truly was just a scared little rat.

Just being around Honda-san was putting her at risk, but I was too selfish to let this change how I treated her. I let my emotions guide me rather than my common sense. I was endangering Honda-san.

She was so beautiful in the light from the sun. I wanted to hold her, but I knew I couldn't do such a thing. It was so difficult to bear this curse, so painful. But it would be even more painful for Honda-san if Akito found out how I felt about her.

Akito. Just thinking that name turned my blood to ice. Akito had done such terrible things to me. Akito would do worse to Honda-san if she got any more involved with my family and our curse.

I pushed those thoughts from my mind. I was here with Honda-san, why couldn't I just enjoy that? But the happiness and beauty of the moment now seemed tainted by my guilt.

What had happened over the summer had not since been mentioned by either of us. Maybe neither of us was quite sure of our feelings and didn't know how to bring it up. It seemed almost like that moment had been forgotten.

As we approached the house, I was surprised to see the baka neko was not up sulking on the roof. Strange, that was where he could usually be found. Because he had left in the middle of class, I assumed he had failed a test or something and had found some obscure way to blame it on me.

But Kyo didn't run up to me to throw a punch, or to rattle off obscenities. Perhaps he was sick. It was not really any concern to me, it just meant that I could go a few days without having to block poorly aimed punches.

Honda-san also seemed to notice than something was strange. "Yuki-kun, what do you think happened to Kyo? Did I do something to offend him?" she panicked. She was such a caring person. I felt angry for a moment. We were having such a nice time and than she had to bring up Kyo. Than I felt guilty for thinking like that. Why couldn't I be like Honda-san? Why did I always have to be so selfish?

"No, Honda-san, I'm sure that whatever happened to Kyo is no fault of yours," I said reassuringly. But she had already started blaming herself.

"I must have done something to him! Oh, but what! I really didn't mean to hurt him; I can be so insensitive sometimes. He must have been so badly hurt, but was too polite to say anything! Oh, I'm such a fool!' she said. Than she seemed to notice me again. "Oh! Sohma-kun I forgot to thank you for your reassurances, I'm so sorry! There, another example of me being insensitive!"

I wasn't hearing her words anymore. Something else had caught my attention. It's hard to believe that anything could take my attention from her, but something did at that moment. It was Kyo.

Through one of the windows of the house, I could see him. He was staring off into space. It was strange to see him like that. A person like Kyo is the type I would least expect to be gazing out a window with such a thoughtful, sad, expression on his face.

And I became worried. I couldn't help myself. I hated being worried about him. He was the baka neko; the fool who couldn't learn how to control his anger so took it out on me. But that was not the impression I got from looking at his face. I got the impression that this was a sad boy who had been keeping it all to himself.

I banished the thought from my mind. I didn't want to think this way about Kyo. I wanted us to continue being enemies, as odd as that sounds. I was the calm, polite one; he was the angry, violent one. That was the way it had always been. Now to think that maybe I was the cruel, stupid one, the one who hadn't been able to see who Kyo really was… that thought hurt me. The thought that maybe I was wrong about him, and had always been wrong… I couldn't stand it.

I watched in shock as Uotani-san leaned her head against Kyo's shoulder. She also had the same sad look in her eyes. It looked like she had been crying. But now I was more concerned about her being there itself than I was about the expression.

What was the baka neko thinking, having a girl over at the house! And so close to him! Even he should be smarter than that! He hadn't told anyone or me about it either. He should know that it would put Honda-san at risk if Uotani-san were to find out our secret. Honda-san would have to have her memory erased, and Akito would definitely be filled with rage.

I couldn't stand having to deal with Akito's rage again. Even more terrible, however, was the thought that Honda-san would be taken away from me.

I couldn't face having the person who had made my life bearable being taken away. I couldn't face going back to the way things were before, now that I knew that there was something better. Now that I knew that there are people who will offer you their hand when you've fallen so far. I needed a person like that. I needed Honda-san.

I was about to enter the house, to ask Kyo what on earth he had been thinking, when I heard a sound.

"Psst!" said a voice. I turned around quickly. Was it my brother in snake form? Man, that would be terrible. What a way to ruin a perfectly nice day. He would probably try to dress us all up in little outfits like he always tried to. He truly was a bizarre person. I could practically hear his voice, laughing in that idiotic way he had.

"Pssssst!" said the voice again, louder this time, interrupting my thoughts. I looked and saw a hand reaching from behind another side of the house. Curious, I followed it. Honda-san followed me as well. From this angle, we couldn't see in the window and couldn't be seen from out the window. Not that Kyo had been looking in our direction, he had simply been looking up at the sky.

I saw that the hand belonged to Shigure. Oh well, at least it wasn't my brother. But Shigure had a serious expression on his face, that couldn't be good. Shigure never looked serious, it was just plain wrong. It went against the natural laws of the universe. What I am trying to say, is that a serious Shigure creeped me out.

Before I could further pursue this thought, thankfully, Shigure interrupted me. That's probably a good thing because I was just making myself more creeped out by thinking like that. "It is best not to go in there, Yuki-kun," said Shigure. He said this seriously. He was _actually _serious. It wasn't just some kind of twisted joke to frighten me. Shigure was _serious_!

"Why… why can't I go in?" I asked.

"Because, Yuki-kun… I can see the look in your eyes," he replied.

"What about my eyes?" I said, loudly. Now was not the time for riddles!

Shigure gestured for me to lower my voice before he continued. "Yuki-kun… it is so obvious you're angry. If you're angry… you will only further hurt them. It is best to give them their space."

I was pretty surprised by those words. I wasn't angry… was I? I simply wanted to put Kyo in his place. I wanted to make him see what a stupid thing he had done, make him see that he had put Honda-san at risk.

A pang of guilt hit me. I wanted to blame him for putting her at risk. I was doing the exact same thing. I was letting myself think that I could feel like I did about her and not hurt her. I was the one who was being stupid. I was so eager to blame Kyo for what I should really be blaming on myself. Yes, I was angry. I was angry at Kyo when I should have been angry at myself.

I tried to think about something else, think about anything but that. I changed the focus of the conversation. I must have done this pretty obviously, because for a moment I could swear I saw a flicker of laughter on Shigure's face. Stupid Shigure, thinking he could read my emotions so easily. "Why is Kyo with Uotani-san in there?" I asked.

"I don't know," was the reply I got.

"What! Than how do you know it would be best for me to stay out of it?" I asked. Shigure was so hard to understand. An idiotic pervert who could say something so deep and perplexing. What a strange person.

"Yuki-kun… you really have much to learn in dealing with people," said Shigure.

I have to admit, Shigure was right about that. I did have a lot to learn about dealing with other people. I used to be so distant and cold, but Honda-san had helped me open up to people a bit. Okay, more than a bit; Honda-san was the one who showed me that there are people in this world who will be kind to you, who can make even a life like mine worthwhile. I hope that someday I too can be like that, an eternal optimist. A person who can look up into the sky, during a terrible storm, and see the beauty in even the darkest cloud.

"Now, I am off!" said Shigure in a singsongy voice.

"Wait! Where are you going?" I asked. How could he leave so suddenly without telling me what to do about Kyo. Wait… I wanted Shigure to give me advice? The world was weird today.

"To annoy my editor, of course!" said Shigure. He happily strolled off, humming something to himself that sounded frighteningly similar to the "High School Girls" song. Seriously, he gets stranger every day.

Suddenly realizing that Honda-san was still beside me, I turned to her. "Why didn't you say anything?" I asked. I didn't mean to sound rude, I was just rather surprised that she had been there silently the whole time, and I spoke without thinking.

"I didn't know what to say," she said.

It was a simple sentence, but it meant so much to me. Even people like her sometimes doubted themselves. No one could or had to be perfect all the time. No one had to say something beautiful at every conversation. Sometimes it was okay just to listen, to stay silent when you didn't know what to feel. I could stay silent a little longer, I could wait until the right moment to tell Honda-san how I felt about her.

Thank you for reading this chapter! Don't worry, its still mainly a KyoUo story, I just put in a little YukiTohru to contrast how different Kyo and Arisa are. Please review!


	4. Reflection

My Fault

Chapter 4

Reflections

Disclaimer: I don't own Kyo, Arisa, Tohru, Yuki, Shigure, Kyoko, or anyone else mentioned so far.

Thank you to all my reviewers! So far this story has 10 reviews, and it means a lot to me that people took the time to write them. So, a big 'thank you' to Lumias, pinksnow, deadlykitty, Shika's Soul, and Rakal.

My mom thinks I'm doing homework. Well, it _is_ hard work writing this, and I am at home… anyway I want to make this a good long chapter, because I won't be able to update for a while. I have to take an IQ test and my parents want me to study… doesn't that defeat the purpose of the test? How do they even want me to study? Memorize the dictionary, probably… knowing them, that seems pretty likely… Anyway, on with the story!

This is Arisa's POV again. This chapter has a really brief poetic intro and ending. Because I was feeling random.Oh, tell me if you like the poetry. If it sucks, I need to be told so I don't make everyone suffer throught it!

**I used to flee**

_**Hiding from you**_

_**Afraid to see**_

_**What I'd put you through**_

_**Now we've been torn**_

_**Away so fast**_

_**You're gone and I mourn**_

_**My mistakes in the past**_

_**I search in the shadows**_

_**For a glimpse of your face**_

_**I have just my memories**_

_**You're gone with no trace**_

_**A reflection in water**_

_**Becoming your eyes**_

_**Disappears in a ripple**_

_**Nothing to find**_

They say that you have to hit rock bottom before you can see clearly. A moment where everything makes sense and you know what you feel. I experienced a moment like this when Kyoko had saved me from the people I used to believe were my friends, and I experienced a moment like this with Kyo.

"I love you."

The words had just kind of fallen out of my mouth, without me thinking. That didn't change the fact that they were true. Three words that changed both our lives. They summed up everything I felt about Kyo. I guess it was everything I had ever felt about him, I just hadn't realized. Such a complicated combination of feelings and emotions summed up in three little words.

Kyo didn't say anything, but I could tell from the look in his eyes and the way he held me that he felt the same way about me. Sometimes you can communicate without words. And knowing that he felt this way about me gave me the strength to hold on. If a person like Kyo loved me, than I could still see the beauty in a world that had treated me like crap. I could still accept myself even though I had made so many mistakes.

We sat there almost silently, the tears still falling from our eyes and running down our faces. It hurt so much, but I knew that Kyo was there and this helped me deal with the pain. It had been different when Mom left. When my mom had left, my dad had taken up drinking and couldn't be there for me. I had been so completely alone. There was an occasional person who would try to comfort me, who would tell me I was brave and other comments that were just sugar-coated pity. What utter crap, it would make you want to throw up. How did it make me brave? I didn't choose for her to leave, I didn't want her to leave. How does not having a choice make someone brave? Dad and I just had to deal with it.

Dad. We had hardly seen eachother. I had stayed out of the house as much as possible as a kid, and as I got older I had moved out into my own apartment. What a mistake. I had been angry that Dad was never there for me, but now I felt terrible that I hadn't been there for him either. Maybe he was the one who had needed someone to help him through it all, and I had just been selfish.

I wasn't going to make the same mistake again. I was going to be there for the ones I cared about. You never know when something is going to take them away from you.

Kyo had turned back into a human again a little while ago and had silently gotten dressed again while I looked away. Then we held eachother as close as we could without embracing. We were holding hands, and I had my head on his shoulder. I don't know how long we stayed like that. Time wasn't important, what was important was that I was there with Kyo.

I broke the silence with a faint whisper. "What now?" I asked. This was a beautiful moment, and I wanted it to last forever, but I knew it couldn't. Nothing could last forever. Something would happen that would end this.

"You wanna go for a walk?' asked Kyo. I guess neither of us could face going back to class. To be stared at and asked 'what's wrong' by a bunch of near strangers was not going to make this any easier. I needed to get away from this school. I had to get out of the place where I had heard this awful news. I needed to feel like I was going somewhere, anywhere.

"Sure," I said. Kyo stood slowly, offering me his hand to help me up. I took it. In the past, I would probably have gotten upset over him trying to help me. It sounds pretty stupid, but it's probably true. I used to always fight with Kyo over random little things. He was so fun to tease; I never would have thought he had a side like this.

Could I ever go back to being like I was? I had been happy, had fun joking around with my friends. Now everything had changed and it felt like I could never go back to being who I used to be. Did I even want to go back to being like that? Now that I was thinking about it, maybe it was cruel of me to enjoy myself when there was so much bad stuff going on so close to me that I was shutting my eyes to.

I would have said I could stand up by myself, or something like that, but people change. My perception of the world had been shattered only moments ago, and now I saw that maybe I couldn't stand up alone. Maybe it was okay to accept help once in a while. I didn't have to be so damn proud. What did I have to be proud of, anyway?

We walked out of the school. It was the middle of the day, so there weren't a ton of people around. The two of us walked pretty far. The school probably wasn't even in view anymore, but I wouldn't know. I never looked back.

We were in a park, or a forest, or something. There were some dark green trees, some long grass, and a bench. We sat down on the bench. I could see why Kyo had chosen this area to come to. The sun wasn't horribly bright here. If the sun was bright, it would feel like it was mocking us, telling us to be happy and cheerful and all of that. I couldn't feel like that, it was too… fake. I couldn't pretend that everything was great in the world, and it would be stupid for me to try. Maybe some people could live their whole lives in ignorance, pretending that this kind of stuff never happened. I couldn't live like that anymore.

I still was having a hard time dealing with my dad being… gone. It was hard to think that I would never see him again. The concept was so huge, so strange, that I couldn't completely get it through my head. I kept thinking that when I got home, I would apologize to him. Than I realized that I would never be able to do this. A wave of sorrow hit me. I felt like I was drowning in the emotion, like I was going to be swept away. I broke down into an uncontrollable flood of tears. I put my hands to my eyes and sobbed, unable to hold the extreme emotions inside me any longer.

Kyo put one of his hands on one of mine, and I took my hands away from my eyes. I looked up into Kyo's face. I could see the concern in his eyes. I didn't deserve a person like him to care about me. But I needed a person like him. I needed Kyo to help me through this, and I was so grateful for his kindness. I wanted to be with him forever.

The trees blocked out some of the sun, except for a small sliver of it that fell upon us. It shone on Kyo's hair, making it seem to glow in the sunlight. His hair was so… orange. I remembered how I used to tease him about it. I found myself wondering once again if I could go back to that time, or if those moments were just memories that could never happen again. Maybe those times were just the remnants of an Arisa Uotani that had been completely destroyed that morning and could never be brought back.

"Orangey" I said quietly, unable to contain myself.

Kyo smiled at me, a sad but beautiful smile. It was kind of an awkward expression on his face, as though he didn't do it much. Come to think of it, I don't really remember him ever smiling before then. "If that's what you want to call me, I guess you can…" he said. He was so kind to me. I started to cry again. I don't really know why. It wasn't exactly because I was sad, although I was sad, and it wasn't because I was happy. How could I be happy at a time like this? I just started to cry again, because I knew that Kyo was here and I was safe. I guess it sounds kind of stupid, but that didn't matter at the time. All that mattered was Kyo was there for me and that made me so relieved that all my feelings and emotions were sort of falling out all over the place.

Kyo was holding me with one arm around my shoulders and the other holding my hand. I wished we could embrace, but with his curse, we would only get to hold eachother for a few seconds.

The sun had moved quite a bit by now. It was now behind one of the trees, and was illuminating the edges of it. It was so strange. The curse, not the tree. I had learned about a curse that made Kyo turn into a cat, but that didn't seem important, it was no big deal. As I said before, my perspective had changed. Any other time I would have been shocked to learn such a thing, but now it was just another fact I would have to face. Realizing my feelings for Kyo and losing my dad took priority, and they alone were too much for me to get through my head.

I felt like I was going to cry again, but this time I didn't. I guess I had no tears left. "Where do we go from here?" I asked. I don't really know what I meant. Was I referring to our relationship, was I asking if I would I always have such confused emotions as now, or did I just mean where we would go after the park? I really don't know. I guess I didn't really know what was going to happen next for any of these. I couldn't even comprehend what was going on now. Before now, life had seemed pretty simple. Well, it hadn't seemed simple at the time, but compared to this, I mean. I guess it's true, you don't know what you've got until its gone. Now I didn't understand my emotions, I had lost my only family member, and I had no clue what would happen next.

"Where do you want to go?" asked Kyo, quietly.

"Anywhere, as long as you're there," I responded. I don't know why we were being so quiet. Maybe neither of us wanted to break the silence. Maybe it was just the mood. Maybe it was just hard to talk after crying so hard.

"Are you hungry or anything?" asked Kyo.

"No."

"Me neither." He probably knew I wasn't in the mood for eating. I guess he was just trying to show that he cared about me, and was feeling awkward about how to say it. But no matter how he said it, it meant everything to me.

Kyo and I got up after a while. "You don't want to go back home, do you?" asked Kyo. It was more of a statement than a question; Kyo probably knew that I wouldn't be able to bear going back there. I couldn't go to my old house, where I used to live with Dad, or to my apartment where I had gone to avoid him. Pretty pathetic of me, I guess, I had been avoiding while he was alive, now I was desperately trying to find him when I could never see him again. I didn't want to go back there, ever.

I shook my head. I realized that my hair was kind of wet from my tears. So was my uniform, and it was making me sort of cold. It was late winter, and it was not as warm as I was used to. I shivered. "You okay?" asked Kyo.

I guess," I said. Kyo gave me his jacket. Ordinarily, I would have thought this was a corny gesture, I mean, we've all seen it in movies a thousand times. But this was Kyo doing it, so it seemed different for some reason. Kyo didn't do stuff because he wanted to seem important, he did stuff because he cared. And there wasn't a thing about Kyo that anyone could call corny.

"You can come to my place if you want. I mean, Honda-san has some clothes that you can borrow," said Kyo.

I agreed to this and we walked over to Kyo's house. Kyo must have had a really good sense of direction, because he easily led us back to his house. Than again, maybe he just came to this spot often. I remembered the first day he had come to our school, how he had ran away by escaping through a window and running until we could no longer see him. Maybe he had come to that place after fleeing the building.

"School's almost over for the day," said Kyo, as we walked back.

"How do you know?" I asked.

" I can tell from the sun," said Kyo.

It was hard to believe that so much could change in one day that wasn't even over yet. Would there be more disasters and revelations in the next few hours of this one day? I just wanted it to end. I mean, sure, it was the day I had realized my feelings for Kyo and all, but it was just too much to take in all at once.

And Dad was gone. This thought seemed to echo through my head, pushing away all my other thoughts until it was all I knew. I would never see him again, never be able to make up with him for what I had done, I had deserted him. His entire family had left him alone to live a slow and miserable life, and die, a slow and miserable death. We had all abandoned him. Now he was gone, and I would never see him again.

My life would never be the same. Kyo and I walked silently the rest of the way back, both of us lost in our thoughts.

Kyo withdrew a key from his pocket and unlocked the door to his house. There was nobody home. To tell the truth, this relieved me. Tohru was a great friend, but I wasn't ready to tell this to her yet. The Prince didn't seem like he type of guy who would understand what I was going through, he seemed like such an uptight, emotionless person, and he would probably just try to give me meaningless words of comfort.

Kyo was the only one who really understood what I was going through. We both thought the same way, and he had gone through basically the same thing as me.

"Kyo?" I asked, breaking the long silence that had formed between us.

"Yeah?" was his reply.

"The pain… does it ever go away?"

Kyo was silent for a while. He looked like he was thinking really deeply about it. "I don't know yet," he responded. He paused for a while. "But… telling you about it… helped."

"Kyo?"

"Yeah?"

"It helped me too. Thanks."

"It means a ton to me… that I could help you," said Kyo.

"Can I hug you?" I asked. I guess it was kind of rude of me to ask this. He had a curse on him, and I didn't want to make it awkward for him. I could tell that he was embarrassed about his curse. He said his mom had killed herself because of it, I remembered. How could I be so cruel to him and remind him of that?

"You don't have to ask," said Kyo. We wrapped our arms around eachother and had one moment where nothing else mattered. We were together, and even a curse couldn't change the way we felt. We loved eachother, and the rest was just details.

_**When you're here**_

_**I can forget**_

_**All of my fear**_

_**Of what I have to regret**_

_**Angry accusations**_

_**From within my own mind**_

_**Become just the whisper**_

_**As our lives fly by**_

_**We have but a moment**_

_**Suspended in time**_

_**Forever remembered**_

_**A truth among lies**_

Hope you liked it! As always, please review! Let me know what you thought of the poems, I just kind of wrote them for no particular reason (not the best reason to write poetry!)


	5. Questions

My Fault

Chapter 5

Questions

Thank you to: steeldriver, Shika's Soul, Lihi,Lumias, Rakal, pinksnow, and deadlykitty

After a long wait, chapter 5 is up! Wooot! I wrote my IQ test and have no clue how I did. By the way, my grapefruit tree died. And no one cares about any of this, so let's start chapter 5!

This is Kyo's POV once again.

"Can I hug you?" she asked. I wondered why she would want to hug me. Her life had just been torn apart, and she was trying to make sense of everything. Why would she want to hug me and make me turn into a cat? Wouldn't I just make everything more complicated? But if it were what she wanted, I would let her. I would do anything for her.

"You don't have to ask," I said.

As I held her, I finally understood. As we embraced, I realized that I was all she had left to cling to. I was her only lifeline, and she would drown in this torrent of confused emotions if she couldn't hold on to me.

" I will always be there for you, " I whispered.

I transformed. I was so ashamed to be seen like this, my secret revealed. I couldn't pretend to be normal, to have a normal life. I was forced to see that it was all just a lie, that I could never be accepted, among normal people or even by my own family. I was doomed to be the eternal outcast.

Arisa was kneeling over the pile of my clothes. I couldn't see her face, but I saw a few tears drop onto the floor. "I love you, Kyo," she said, her voice shaking.

Why did she accept me? Couldn't she see what a freak I was? A sharp pang of guilt hit my heart. I hadn't told her about my true form. I didn't want her to know about it. I was deceiving her. How could she love me when she didn't even know me?

_If she knows, she'll never love you. _The thought was breaking my heart, but I knew it was true. We could never truly love each other. She could never love me if it was all based on lies, and the truth was too horrible for anyone to ever accept.

After I transformed back to a human and had gotten dressed again, I wondered where Shigure was. I don't know why I was thinking about that, I was here with Arisa, which was way more important than where Shigure was, but I couldn't help wondering. I guess it was a good thing that he wasn't here. He wasn't the type of guy who would be able to make this any easier for Arisa. He was completely blind to other people's emotions.

We were as close as we could get without actually embracing. It was weird how the moment was beautiful and horrible at the same time. I could be here with Arisa, the one I loved, but it was so painful to see her like this, so broken and miserable.

_Are you prepared to break her heart again? _The question was eating away at my conscious. How would she feel when I was imprisoned, when once again the person she loved was taken away from her?

I stared out the window and Arisa put her head on my shoulder. It was a bright and clear day. It seemed like nothing was ever clear in our lives. We had both found love, but neither had found happiness.

I had no future, and I was about to drag her down with me. But for now, I had to be there for her. I didn't know what would happen next.

In the window, I could see our reflections. Arisa's face was wet with tears and her eyes were reddish. But even like that, she was beautiful. The most beautiful person in the world, and the only person in my world.

Who cared about Akito? Who cared about imprisonment? I would find a way to escape when that time came, and until then, all I had to worry about was being here for Arisa. I found myself thinking this way, and I let myself believe this. I told myself that the two of us could be happy. Nobody deserved happiness more than Arisa.

"I love you too," I said.

Sorry this chapter was so short. As always, please review to say if you liked it or just to express your sympathy for my tree.


	6. Darkness Falls

My Fault

Chapter 6

Darkness Falls

Woah… Chapter 6 is up! I can't believe that people like this fic so much! It now has 15 reviews, 300 page views, and over 10000 words!

I want to dedicate this chapter to all my reviewers, especially Lumias and noon, for being the first people so far to express sympathy for me in losing my tree. It had the terrible fate to die at the hands of a little kid with scissors… sob… Anyway, where were we?

I also want to thank: pinksnow, steeldriver, Lihi, Shika's Soul, pinksnow, Rakal,Piano diva88, and deadlykitty. Wow, I have a lot of reviewers. I feel so loved!

By the way, this story uses the darker manga Shigure, rather than the lighter anime one.

**This is Yuki's POV. **

It was dark when Honda-san, Shigure, and I entered the house. Honda-san and I had been playing cards alongside the house to pass the time, and finally Shigure had said that now we could go in.

"Why only now?" I asked suspiciously.

Shigure sighed. "Yuki, they needed time to be alone. Have you never had a moment where you yourself just wanted to be by alone, and forget the rest of the world?"

"But Kyo's not by himself. Uotani-san is with him!" I said. I didn't understand what Shigure was trying to say.

"And it is a good thing, too," said Shigure.

I took a while to think over Shigure's words. I didn't think that I ever had a moment when I just wanted to be left by myself. When I was in that dark room, I had always wished for my parents, or Nii-san, or, I guess, for anyone other than Akito to come. Haru and Rin sometimes would come visit, and it would give me hope, knowing that there are people in the world who didn't want to hurt me, who would be a friend when I most needed someone. Why was Kyo trying to be left alone when all _I_ wanted was for to be close to someone?

"Yuki-san?" a voice pulled me away from my thoughts. Honda-san.

"Yes?" I replied.

"Do you remember what… what are homework is?" she asked. I could tell that she was trying to end the silence that had set in between us. She was so kind to me. She had accepted me, freed me to change and be a better person. She was different than all those other girls. They were nice to me, and it meant a lot to me, but Honda-san was… different. She didn't care about my curse. She was always thinking of the good things in life, like I wished that I could.

"We have to finish our report on the Showa Period," I said.

We were in the house now. There were no lights on, and the only light came from the moon and stars. I wondered why Kyo and Uotani-san hadn't put on any lights. I suddenly saw a flashback of the two of them looking out that window, looking so sadly out at the sky. _Stop. You mustn't start to feel sorry for the baka neko, _I told myself. He was always fighting with me, he was always being a fool, and how could I care about a person like that?

"Yuki-san, what would you like for dinner?' asked Honda-san.

"Umm… soba would be nice," I said.

"Okay!" smiled Honda-san.

"I'll go and check on Kyo and Uotani-san," said Shigure.

He left the room while I helped Honda-san with whatever I could. This wasn't much, mind you; I couldn't cook to save my life. Honda-san seemed to appreciate the help, though. The light of the moon and stars reflected in her eyes and illuminated her face. It was nice, just to be here with her.

Shigure's POV 

I left to go check on Kyo and Uotani. I was definitely interested in what was going on between them. I wasn't sure, yet, if I would tell what I found out to Akito, but I did know that this information would be very useful in the future. Yes, very useful.

I found the two of them nearly embracing, sitting together and staring out the window. They didn't look as depressed as they had earlier. I tried to use the 'pretending-nothing-is-wrong-but-still-being-considerate' approach. I didn't want to ask what was wrong and risk making them cry, but acting carefree and perverted like I usually did just didn't seem appropriate. So I went with the in between approach.

"Kyo?" I asked, as though I had just noticed him to be there.

"Yeah?" he responded. It was quiet, but a response was good. It showed that I hadn't come here too early. As Hatori once told me, if I push too hard, I may break things.

"I see you have a friend over. What would the two of you like to eat?" I asked. I, of course, realized that 'friend' was a tremendous understatement. The way they were holding each other made that obvious enough. I wondered if she knew of our curse. I would soon find out.

"Not hungry," muttered Kyo.

"Tohru-kun wants to speak to you, Kyo," I said. As I predicted, Kyo grudgingly got up and came out of the room. Uotani followed him with her eyes. Perhaps all that crying had worn her out too much to stand.

As soon as Kyo was out of her line of sight, I pulled him aside. "Does she know?" I asked, not wasting any time.

"I… I don't know what you're talking about!" denied Kyo.

I was pretty sure he knew, but I asked again. "Our secret. Does she know?"

"No! I wouldn't tell anyone our secret, I'm not stupid!" said Kyo.

"Okay," I said. He didn't need to say anymore. I had learned all I needed to. Kyo stormed off back to Uotani. "He really has no skill at lies…" I whispered to the air, and left to rejoin Tohru-kun and Yuki.

Yuki's POV 

Shigure returned a few minutes after he had left.

"Where are Kyo and Uotani-san?" I asked. Hadn't Shigure gone to get them?

"They aren't feeling hungry," said Shigure. For just a moment, I thought I saw a fleeting look of triumph in Shigure's eyes, as though he had found something out that he was keeping secret from the rest of us. But I only saw this for a second, and maybe I had imagined it. After all, I wasn't very good at reading people.

**A week later:**

**Tohru's POV**

Uo-chan had been living at Shigure-san's house with all of us for a week now. I liked that I could be with my friend more often, but… she hasn't been herself lately.

Uo-chan hadn't said more than a couple words to anybody since she started staying here. I didn't even know why was staying here now. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, I was very thankful that she was able to live with us. The only one that Uo-chan would talk to was Kyo-kun. If anyone else tried to talk to her she would ignore them or give a one word answer.

I wanted to know why she had started staying here, but I was more worried about why she was so depressed. To see such a strong person like Uo-chan so powerless was hard to watch. I wanted so much to help her, but there was nothing I could do if I didn't know what was wrong.

What if I had done something to hurt her? What if I was a bad friend, so she didn't want to talk to me? Why was she so sad? I couldn't stop thinking about these questions.

Uo-chan walked into the room as I was cooking dinner. I think she had just gotten up. She seemed to do nothing but sleep and, occasionally, talk to Kyo-kun. Uo wasn't even eating, except for when Kyo-kun brought her food. Even then she would eat very little.

"Hello," I told her, hoping that maybe this time she would respond. She poured a glass of water in silence and left the room. Uo hadn't even been going to school since that day when she had been called out of class.

_What happened, Uo-chan? _I wondered.

Kyo's POV 

I hated that Shigure even more than that damn rat. At least rat boy had never been threatened to take Arisa away from me. Yeah, that's right; that damn dog, as I now decided to think of him, had told me that if I had told anyone our secret he would tell Akito all about my 'girlfriend.' He actually had the nerve to say that to my face. Damn dirty dog! That has a nice ring to it, I thought grimly.

I had wanted to stay home like Arisa was, but that damn dog hadn't let me. He said that if I missed too many days I would fail and Akito would be angry. I told him why did I even need to pass high school if I was going to be locked up anyway. Shigure told me not to question Akito. I said to hell with Akito, I was staying with Arisa. Shigure asked me why being with Arisa was so important to me.

He had deliberately put me in a situation that I couldn't get out of. I couldn't say I loved Arisa, or else Akito would take her away from me. I had no choice but to give up and go to school. He had been toying with me the whole time, I realized. That's all that people are to that damn dog, things that you play with when you're bored. I hated him.

I don't know why he was letting Arisa stay, but I was really suspicious. Either he hadn't told Akito about her or she was part of some evil plan he had with Akito. Neither of these could mean anything good for Arisa, though.

The bell rang and I was about to leave when a teacher stopped me. "Sohma, we need to talk," she said.

"Yeah?" I said.

"You haven't been paying attention in class lately, especially this last week. Is something wrong?" she looked genuinely concerned, but I didn't give a damn about her 'concern.'

"No, everything's fine," I lied. I walked away before she could say any more. I ran back home as fast as I could.

I burst through the door. Shigure and Honda-san were in the kitchen. "Kyo-kun, so nice to see you learning to use the door instead of breaking my house!" said Shigure cheerily.

"Shut it before I shut it for you," I growled.

"What's this? A threat from Kyon?" he asked in mock surprise.

I stormed out of the room.

"Hey," I said when I saw Arisa. She looked up at me and almost smiled. She hadn't smiled since the incident.

"Hey," she said. Her eyes were kind of red, like they usually were now. I guess she cried a lot when no one was watching.

"When are you going to start coming to school again?" I asked her.

"I dunno."

"Please come back," I said. I knew that she would never heal if she kept on hiding from the world.

"I don't really care about school anymore. Its not important."

I wasn't sure what to think of those words. I felt basically the same way. There was no point in me going to school, I had thought earlier. It didn't matter. But here was Arisa, unable to go outside and live her life because she was so upset over the past. She wasn't letting herself live because of something she couldn't change. Is that what I had been doing?


	7. Returning

My Fault

Chapter 7

Returning

Sorry about the long wait, chapter 7 is here! Many thanks to Lihi, steeldriver, Shika's Soul, Lumias, pinksnow, Rakal, deadlykitty, and piano diva88.

Arisa's POV

Eventually I decided to go back to school. Maybe it was because Kyo wanted my to, maybe because I had to feel like I was moving on, maybe I just had to get out of the house, I don't know. The point is I went back there.

This was the first day I went to school again, a foggy Monday morning. I walked to school with Kyo, and we were almost at the door. I began to regret having come here. I knew that once I was in that building, people would stare, whisper, and ask me what happened. I wasn't sure if I could face that.

Kyo opened the door and went in, holding the door open behind him for me. I can do this, I told myself. Kyo will be here, so I can do this.

There was, thankfully, only a few minutes in the hallway before class started, so people only had a chance to stare a little and not to ask any awkward questions.

I got through the first half of the day okay. It was mainly just taking notes and listening to speeches. Boring and tedious, but at least it gave me something else to concentrate on besides all the stuff that had happened recently.

It was lunchtime now. I sat together with Kyo in the cafeteria. At first it was nice, just to be together with Kyo. Then Hana and Tohru came and sat with us. So did some boys who I assumed were friends with Kyo.

"It's so nice that you're back, Uo-chan!" said Tohru.

"Yeah," I said, trying to sound casual about it. It felt kind of strange, to be talking to someone other than Kyo. But I was trying to move on with my life, so I might as well try to have a normal conversation again, I told myself.

"Hey, Uotani-san, where were you anyway?" asked one of the boys.

"Umm… I was sick," I lied. I couldn't tell him the truth, when the truth was so painful. I was lying not only to him, but to myself as well in a way.

How was I supposed to tell him what had happened? How was I supposed to say that I had been responsible for my dad's death? Not able to face the world because I was so ashamed? Now here I was, pretending that nothing had happened, acting like it was all okay. How could I be such a pathetic person? I was so fake I made myself sick.

Suddenly losing my appetite, I stood up and left the cafeteria. "Where are you going?" asked a boy.

"Water fountain," I said. I actually did go to the water fountain, I guess so I could tell myself that I had been honest about something. But going to the waterfountain wasn't the real reason I left.

I had to get out of that room. I walked right past the water fountain near the cafeteria and all the way to the one at the other end of the school. Hot tears were filling my eyes, but I refused to let them out. I was too proud, too stubborn to let anyone see me cry. I took a long drink from the water fountain before starting to walk back. I walked as slowly as I could, knowing that each step brought me closer to reliving those painful memories.

I guess it was pretty stupid of me to be trying to forget everything. It was like I was saying that Dad wasn't important, and it didn't make a difference that he was gone. It was almost like those words had come out of my mouth instead of "I was sick." The only thing that I felt sick about was my stupidity and myself. Stupidity wasn't really the word for it, I guess. More like cruelty or selfishness. I was the cruelest and most selfish person in the world.

Both of Tohru's parents had died but she could still remember all the good times they had together. I couldn't do that. I guess I never had any good times together with my dad. No, that wasn't the reason. I just didn't want to remember. I didn't want to face that once we had been happy together, a long time ago when Mom was still around. Maybe if I had stayed I could have made Dad happy again.

I was now almost at the cafeteria. I put a hand to my face. It was really wet with tears, damn. I wiped them of on my sleeve; hopefully my eyes wouldn't be red or anything and betray to everyone that I had been crying.

There I was again, being selfish. I was afraid to let anyone see that I had cared about my dad, that I felt so much pain now that he was gone. But I couldn't walk into the cafeteria and let everyone see that I had been crying. Kyo would probably be disappointed in me. I hadn't been able to even get through a normal school day without falling apart.

I felt so confused. Nothing was making sense anymore, and I couldn't stand it. I felt like I was always going to be running around in circles, trying to make sense of what was happening and what I was feeling and always ending up back at square one.

I couldn't go back in, I thought. I was pretty close to the cafeteria doors; I could see them down the hallway. I stopped walking and leaned against a wall. Eventually I let myself slide down into a sitting position, my head in my hands, rested on my knees. I just sat there and tried not to think, tried to ignore the world. All I could see was blackness, all I could feel was the hot tears falling down my face and onto my hands, and all I could think was maybe I would have to spend my whole life like this. I meant that metaphorically, I wasn't going to sit here until I died. Or maybe I would, it didn't much matter anyway. No, I wouldn't do that. Everyone would stare.

I know that it sounds ridiculous. I know that it was a selfish thing to think. But I thought it anyway.

What I meant by spending my entire life like this was that maybe I would always be covering my eyes to what was going on around me, purposely blinding myself to the outside world. Maybe I would always be crying inside me, not letting anyone see. Maybe I would always be acting like the past never happened and the present wasn't important. I didn't want to live out my life like that, but it seemed that that was all I could do to survive this life.

I heard footsteps, but didn't look up. Maybe I wouldn't be noticed; maybe the person would just walk right past me. But instead, I heard the footsteps come closer and closer, until I could feel the shadow of the person standing over me. "Arisa?" said the person. That one word made me look up. It was Kyo's voice, saying my name in the way that only he could. I looked up and saw him kneeling in front of me, his orange-yellow eyes filled with concern. I covered my eyes again, not able to stand how kind he was to me. Kindness that I didn't deserve.

"I'm sorry," I sobbed. I had tried so hard to come to school for Kyo and now I was here, crying in the hallway.

"What do you have to be sorry for?" asked Kyo, clearly surprised by my answer.

"I couldn't… I couldn't be normal! I… I fell apart over a simple question!" I said, choking on my tears.

"How could anyone be normal after what happened to you? It's only been two weeks. You've gotta give yourself some time to recover, you don't need to push yourself so hard," said Kyo. His voice was the same as always when he said this, but his eyes were so concerned, so kind. I was learning that Kyo didn't usually show emotions with his voice, but with his eyes instead.

"Thank you…" I whispered. Then we both just sat there. It's amazing how sometimes just silently sitting together can mean more than words ever could.

I didn't want to talk right now; I just wanted to cry here with Kyo watching over me. I could put up with all the stuff that was happening, I could continue to live in this world because Kyo was here.

Hanajima's POV 

As I sat at that table with Uotani for the first time in weeks, I noticed some things. Her waves were so changed since I had last seen her. Before, she always seemed to have a small sad voice inside her, hidden but constantly crying. Now, that sad voice was screaming to get out, and I knew that I was all she could do not to let it take control of her. Just sitting here with all of us was so hard for her that she could hardly stand it. Also, her waves indicated that she was clinging to Kyo-kun, like he was all that kept her from sinking so deeply into those emotions that she was carrying inside of her. She was holding onto his presence and that was all that was keeping her in this world.

I also noticed Kyo-kun's waves had changed. He was trying to protect Uo. In fact, from what his waves were saying, it seemed like she was the most important person in the world to him. It was fairly obvious that the two of them had started some sort of relationship. A relationship much stronger than friendship.

When that boy who was sitting with us asked that question I knew that he shouldn't have, but it was too late to stop him. I could feel Uo's emotions explode inside of her. She had to leave, to try to get control of herself. I could also sense that Kyo-kun was worried about her, and he seemed to be angry with the boy.

Minutes passed and still Uotani wasn't back yet, and I could feel Kyo-kun's anxiety growing. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. "I'm going to the washroom!" he snapped, and ran off as fast as he could.

"Must be pretty urgent," mumbled a student. _More than you could ever know, _I thought.

It was all I could do not to run out as well to find Uo. I knew, however, that I would be unable to help her. Only Kyo-kun could help her now. That fact was painful for me to know, that I was powerless to help my friend. But many times, knowing the truth is much more hard to do than to live in ignorance.

The two of them came back in about half an hour. Uotani's waves were amazingly calmer than I had expected them to be. Kyo-kun really was good for her.

"Where were you?" asked the same boy who had been so foolish before.

"Talking," said Kyo-kun. Uo smiled at him.

The bell rang and we all filled into the hallway and left to our next classes. I stopped Kyo-kun when he was alone.

"What?" he asked, clearly annoyed.

"I want to thank you for being there for Uotani," I said, " but I would also like to warn you. You are all that she had to hold on to now. If you were ever to betray her, she would fall into total darkness and maybe never return."

Kyo-kun looked blank, than snapped at me, "What are you talking about? And how do you know about what happened? And how do you know that something happened? Maybe it didn't!"

I continued, " I wonder what it is that you fear so much. You do not appear to be embarrassed of her, so why do you not let anyone else know how you feel for her?" I asked.

"I- I gotta go," said Kyo-kun. What was it that he was so afraid of?


	8. Notes

My Fault

Part Two

Chapter 8

Notes

Okay, a rather (by which I mean incredibly) large author's note this time. Firstly, I would like to thank all my reviewers. Many thanks to Seed-of-Flame, Lumias, Pianodiva88, steeldriver, BurmyWolf, Lihi, Rakal, pinksnow, and deadlykitty. Secondly, I would like to sincerely apologize over how long it took me to update this. I had midterms and stuff and then my brother wouldn't get off the computer, so that's why I haven't updated since last year. I will go back to updating regularly again now. Expect a new chapter every three days to a week, about 2000 words long. As this fic has the most readers, I will work on updating it before I update my other two multi-chapter stories (The Darkness Within her Eyes and Memories of the Forgotten One, respectively). Hopefully I have not lost any of my readers and reviewers after this long wait.

This last thing that I am going to say is probably the most important regarding the writing itself. I think that I am going to experiment with writing in the first person present tense. This means that the upcoming chapters will likely be very different that the previous ones. I hope you all like the new style, and if you don't please tell me. I just think that this new style will be the most effective regarding the upcoming plot. I guess this could be considered the first chapter in Part Two of My Fault. Speaking of this, I have been thinking of changing the name. This was originally intended to be an angsty one-shot, but if the story is going to be a multi-chapter I do not want every chapter to be strictly about people blaming things on themselves, and the name "My Fault" would be kind of misleading if the entire story isn't about people thinking stuff is their fault (although that will probably continue to be an underlying theme). Really, who would want to read 100,000 words of that? No, I am not saying the story will be 100,000 words (although it might be).

If anyone has a better title to suggest please say so in a review or an e-mail/private message. I may or may not use it, but I will be sure to thank you at the start to the next chapter. If you do not want me to change the name please tell me as well.

**Note! As of July 2011, I have edited this chapter slightly, as the pacing was EXTREMELY bad. I was reading over the story in order to write the last few chapters, and I just couldn't stand it and had to fix it up a bit. And yes, that means I am going to finish this story!**

Arisa's POV:

It's been a few weeks, maybe two or three, since I started staying with the Sohmas. I guess it's sort of stupid that I can't remember the date of an event that forever change my life. But I've never been one to keep diaries or do well in history class. I'm more interested in _what_ happened than _when_ it happened. I don't remember how long it's been since I started staying with the Sohmas. The last few weeks have been a blur, so completely different from the time before, as though I used to live on land and now spend my days underwater. Everything has a different feel. The light looks different. _Breathing _feels different.

It's December, and the days are getting shorter. Exams are soon and everyone has kind of started studying, but not really. The kind of studying where you take all your textbooks and notes home, pile them up importantly, and never look at them.

I'm not sure if I feel better, but I feel less bad. Before felt like I was plummeting down a hole, collapsing into myself, waking up gasping and covered in sweat, _his _face choking, turning blue, glaring at me, burned into my retinas.

Now… well, I can't say I'm happy, and I'm still lost in my own thoughts. But it's a different kind of lost. An aimless, floating, lost-balloon drifting thoughtless kind of thinking. I'm not like I was before all this, I don't think I'll ever be like that again. Everything is dulled, and words drift through my head, colourful and incomprehensible as abstract art.

I'm still living at Kyo's place now. No one has suggested or even brought up the topic of me leaving. I like staying there, or course, but I've never been comfortable with that kind of generosity. I don't exactly have much to offer in return. I promise myself that I'll move out as soon as I can. I'll get a job and pay them back for all the food I ate, and however much it would cost to rent a room that size. I know they don't need the money, but being in debt makes my skin crawl.

But even as I think it, stick the plans up like post-it notes on my mind, I wonder if I really mean them. I finally understand the expression "up in the air". It's like lately, my entire life, to-do lists and routines, got tossed up in the sky and crashed down all around me, scattered and broken. Because at any moment, things can change. Life can end. And I'm not sure if that makes everything meaningless, or everything unbelievably important. Either way, it hurts to think about it.

So I think about Kyo. His name brings a smile to my lips as it echoes through my mind. I've been in relationships before, but this is... new. I've never felt so _safe _around a person I was with, like I could unfold my absolute self to them, and it would be okay. I'm used to holding back, putting up walls, pulling away. But Kyo saw me at my absolute worst, totally exposed like a bare wire shooting sparks.

And he didn't run.

The boys I dated before, they were fun to hang out with, play video games and badminton, laugh with, kiss. But Kyo is the first person I want more with. The first person who's been able to put his hand on mine and just like that, let me know that I'm safe, and loved, and that just for that moment, I really believe things are going to be okay. He's the first boy I've wanted to _say_ things to when we talk: concepts, feelings, hopes and fears, all spilled into my words, rather than just the bare bones of how-was-my-day and contextless anecdotes.

But I don't know enough words for all the things I feel, so sometimes, I just sit beside him and we hold on to each other.

He seems to understand.

I want to understand him. I want to know about Kyo's family, but it would be kind of rude to ask. I don't want to make Kyo relive those painful memories again.

It's odd – I would have expected Tohru to be the one to have found me and comforted me when I was in that room. She truly is the kind of person who would do anything to help a friend, or even a total stranger. Sometimes she is maddeningly naïve. Not stupid or anything, but she's so… trusting. Hanajima and I are always going crazy with worry when she's not nearby and we can't keep watch over her. I guess she has the Sohmas to look after her now, and I have to admit, they seem to be taking good care of her, but still we worry. I guess we can't help it. Tohru was there for us when we needed her, and sometimes it's hard to know we can't always be there to help her.

Kyo's different than that. He doesn't need someone to protect him. Or at least it seems that way. After everything he's been through, he's had more than his share of hardship and guilt. Even without the cat-curse, his life has been far from stable. I get the feeling that he does need someone to protect him, to tell him every once in a while that everything will be okay. He needs someone to let him know he isn't just an outcast, someone to see past his "Stay-away-from-me-or-I'll-kick-your-ass" aura.

The word "aura" makes me think of Hanajima.

Somehow, this leads to an image of Kyo dressed in a long black robe and with black hair. He looks so different without his orange hair, and the mournful expression on the gothic Kyo makes me again want to laugh. I start to draw a little sketch of Goth-Kyo in the corner of my notebook. I'm not a great artist, and it's painfully visible in my drawing. The proportions are way out of whack. I may not be an artist but I can still think like one. His neck is sort of freaky, and his eyes are way to big. His nose is the weirdest part of it all. It's completely misshapen, and looks kind of like a screwed up delta. I have to admit; it looks more like a fish than any part of the human anatomy. As Deformed-Goth-Kyo stares up at me, I physically have to stifle a laugh. It comes out as a loud cough, which brings a few stares from the students around me.

This jerks me out of my thoughts and reminds me that I'm still at school, in the middle of Social Studies class, I think. At least, that would explain why the Social Studies teacher is at the front of the room talking, droning on about what I think is the nineteenth century, though I can't really follow the conversation. There are some diagrams, drawn in yellow chalk on the board. They're difficult to read, and it looks like the teacher is an even worse artist than me.

I hear dozens of pencils scratching, students rapidly attempting to jot down the words that he is alternately rapidly spewing out as he points at the diagrams, and then monotonously proclaiming as he reads from some papers he is holding in front of him. "This leads to the major dilemma discussed previously… his new creation brought and end to the way of life we just discussed." I stop listening there. Partly because I can make no sense as to what he is talking about, partly because his voice is difficult to listen to, high and scratchy. I'll flunk the next exam unless I can get the notes and someone can explain them to me.

I tell myself to snap out of it. I have to try to start thinking normally again; I don't want to get stuck in the nothing-matters-loop again. It's hard to explain, but there's something... _easy _about misery. Not the experience of it, but the way your mind works during that time. Thinking that you don't deserve happiness, that you don't deserve a future… it's simple. It saves you from having to do any planning. Even as you feel like you'll explode from the pain, your thoughts aren't particularly complicated. _I am a bad person. I am a bad person. I am a bad person._

But I can't let myself think that way. I have to move on, as shallow and self-centered as that may sound. And moving on, in this case, means finding out what I missed this class while I was lost in thought. I guess it's kind of stupid that I wasted most of this class thinking about stuff that mostly wasn't at all important.

I'm staring mindlessly at the little scribble I drew a short while ago. The guy next to me is moving his head so rapidly between his notes and the teacher I think he'll sprain his neck. His eyes are wide with panic, so I'm guessing this will be on the exam.

Kyo has paper in front of him, but he is balancing his pencil on the tip of his index finger and blowing bubbles, so I doubt he's taking notes, or at least not good ones. He gets pretty good grades, though, so he's got to be listening. At least I hope he is. I take an eraser out of my pencil box and hastily scribble on it _" What's the teacher talking about?"_

I lightly throw it in Kyo's direction. I have fairly good aim, and it hits him in the back of his very orange head. I didn't throw it hard enough to hurt him, but it definitely got his attention. He scoops the pink rectangle off the ground, reads the words, writes something on the other side, and throws it underhand in my direction. It doesn't go high enough for any of the other students or for the teacher to see. I lean forward and catch it in both my hands.

I turn it over and look at the words Kyo has written. "No clue." Oh well, I guess I could get the notes from Tohru or The Prince. In the worse case scenario, at least I won't be the only one who fails.

I gently rip a small piece of paper out of the corner of my notebook. I do this quietly so as not to attract attention, but since the teacher didn't notice Kyo blowing huge gum-bubbles or the two of us throwing stuff across the classroom, he probably won't notice paper tearing. I take careful precautions though. What I am about to write is too important to be taken lightly.

I carefully scrawl on the little scrap of paper "Kyo! You haven't been paying attention? How will you ever get the 99 percent GPA you need to fulfill your lifelong dream of becoming a dentist?" I ball up the paper and toss it at him. It lands in the center of his desk.

He reads the note, then writes his own which he throws behind him, from over his shoulder this time. I catch it and read what it says. "How did you know my lifelong dream?" A smiley face decorates to dot under the question mark. I look up to see Kyo grinning at me from his desk. I smile back.

I wasn't joking when I said I was writing something important. Those few silly words had a deeper meaning than to get a laugh. They also were meant to tell Kyo that I got my sense of humor back. And from the way he's smiling at me, I think he got the message.

…

Hope you liked this chapter. This is mainly a transition chapter between Part One and Part Two. As always, reviews are appreciated.


	9. Cat's Eyes

My Fault

Part Two

Chapter Nine

Cat's Eyes

I would like to thank everyone who read and reviewed this story. I am glad that nobody was angry about the new format. And the name will stay the same, thanks for your input Lumias.

Thanks to: Lumias, pinksnow, deadlykitty, Rakal, BurmyWolf, Seed-of-Flame, Edakumi, Pianodiva88, Lihi, taylor, and steeldriver.

**Arisa's POV**

The bell rings and we all line up at the door, waiting for the teacher to dismiss us, pushing close against each other. Kyo's keeping his distance from the crowd. Or maybe it's more accurate to say the crowd is keeping their distance from him. Our whole class, and I wouldn't be surprised if the whole school as well, is familiar with Kyo's temper. I remember him freaking out on his first day of school when those girls were crowding him. I guess I would have panicked as well if I could change into an animal if someone got too close.

I wonder if there is any way to break the curse? I've never actually encountered a curse before now, except in books and movies and urban legends. But there usually are conditions to these things, a way to remove them, at least temporarily. But if there was a way to break the curse he probably would have mentioned it or done it already.

I think Tohru knows about the curse as well. No offense intended, but she _is _kind of clumsy. I find it hard to believe that she could have lived there for over a year and not accidentally bumped into Kyo. In the time I've been staying with the Sohmas, I found out some more stuff about all of them. Prince is just the same as at school, as I once said so poetically "like he's got a stick up his ass."

Except when Tohru is around, then he acts completely different. Like he's a normal guy, and capable of feeling emotions. I can tell he likes Tohru, it's really obvious. Tohru's way too naïve to figure it out herself. Or maybe she isn't, she can surprise you sometimes. She's so unbelievably _nice_, always trying to be friends with everyone, you wouldn't think she knew anything about human nature. She's had a rough life though, poor kid, so she can't be completely naïve. I guess she's just an optimist.

I watch, amused, as a girl tries to get as close to Yuki as possible. He is moving away, kind of nervously. She's following him, and they're sort of weaving in between the surrounding mess of students. The Prince's fan club is royally pissed off. They're all glaring at her, and I can only imagine the things they have planned to "eliminate" this girl. I can only hope they never find out I'm actually living with the guy now.

But this is school, not gang life anymore. Sometimes it is hard to tell the difference, though. When you're in a gang, you have no choice but to form alliances, even with people you don't like. It can be the only way to survive in a harsh world. You never really know who to trust, you want to think you have friends and can trust them. But when it all comes down to it, your life or theirs, it's everyone for themselves.

I used to think the whole world was like that, a vicious cycle where everyone is always running. Than I met people like Tohru and Kyo and they proved to me there _is_ more to life than that. That maybe the optimists aren't always wrong.

I think the teacher has forgotten about us. "Hey! Can we go already?" The students fall silent and freeze.

The teacher looks up from a pile of papers he's sorting. "Er, yes, fine. You can go," he waves a hand as though pushing us away. I'm relieved that he didn't notice the disrespect in my voice.

"What was that all about?" asks Kyo in the halls, raising an eyebrow.

"I was hungry!" I say.

He gives me a look like he knows that's not the whole story, but he doesn't push it.

The truth is, I'm nervous about my job. Or lack thereof. I haven't been in since that awful phone call, and pretty soon, I'm going to have to pay my bills.

The people at work would have at least contacted me before firing me though, wouldn't they? Then I realize the only address they have is for my apartment, and I haven't been there in three weeks. Even now, I don't want to go back.

"At least you didn't kick over my desk this time," says Kyo, exasperated. It's no secret; I can get weird when I'm hungry.

"Yeah, that was funny," I say.

"Funny? No it wasn't! Do you know how many papers I had to pick up?" His eyes tell me he's joking. When he's angry you can tell from his voice. But his eyes are a much better indicator of what he's thinking when he's not angry.

I guess none of the other students know him as well as I do, so they don't realize this. A crowd of students surrounds us, their faces bearing expressions of frightened curiosity. They're all staying a "safe" distance away, about ten feet. If Kyo actually was angry, it would only take him about half a second to reach the helpless students. I don't think he would attack an innocent bystander though, the only people I've ever seen him pick fight with were trained in martial arts, like Yuki and Hatsuharu-kun. We'd sometimes fight, but to be fair I usually started it. Besides, I think being in a gang qualifies as martial arts training. Well, sort of.

Kyo glares at some of the spectators, and the crowd disintegrates immediately. Soon the hallway is empty, aside from us. A few seconds slip by in total silence.

Then we both laugh. It's probably a good thing there's no one around, or I'm sure they would have all stood around gawking. But even if there were other people around, we probably wouldn't have been able to contain ourselves.

"You know what I just realized?" asks Kyo after we are both able to breath again.

"What?"

"We both have a really strange sense of humor."

"Oh, and I thought you were going to say something romantic!" Yes, I actually just said that. Yes, I know that sounds weird. And yes, I know you are probably wondering if I received brain damage from lack of oxygen due to laughing so long. It doesn't sound like anything I would normally say, but that's the point. Maybe I have changed a little in the past few weeks, but I am never in my_ life _going to start coming onto someone that strongly. At least not with that bad a line.

"What, about dentists?" asks Kyo wryly.

Kyo opens up his locker and removes his lunch bag, which is bright orange and decorated with embroidery of cats. I presume Tohru bought it or made it for Kyo. She's the type of person who's always giving other people presents, even when there isn't really a special occasion. She'll act like anything is a special occasion, first day of school, last day of school, longest day of the year, anything anyone can think of will make a day special to her. She'll give everyone presents so it will be special to them, too. Nice gesture, but I bet it gets expensive.

"Wow, stylish lunch bag, Kyo," I say. I'm not being sarcastic or anything, even though stylish probably isn't the right word. It's cute, and seeing the tough-acting Kyo with such a cute lunch bag makes me smile.

"Yeah, Honda-san bought it for me," says Kyo. Inside are cat-shaped onigiri and some fruit. Yep, Tohru definitely packed his lunch. I reach in and take one of the onigiri.

"Hey!" exclaims Kyo, realizing what I've stolen from his lunch. He reaches for the onigiri, but I quickly move out of his reach. He sighs and gives up, and I take a bite, enjoying the sweet pickled plum. "Don't you have your own lunch?" asks Kyo.

"''Course I do. Do you think Tohru would ever let me leave without one?" That's right, Tohru makes my lunch as well. I felt a little guilty about this at first, but then I saw that Tohru would probably be offended if I didn't accept. Tohru makes just about every meal for everybody in the Sohma house. Sometimes Kyo or Yuki or I will help her (Shigure gets in the way). Surprisingly, the prince is a terrible cook. It's seems so weird sometimes; he gets the best grades, is a great athlete, but can't figure out how to make tea.

"I should have known. You owe me one of your onigiri," says Kyo.

"Fine," I grudgingly agree. I finally work up the courage to ask something that has been on my mind for a long time. "So, I guess Tohru knows about the curse as well," I try to say it casually, but I inadvertently lower my voice. There's obviously no one else in the hallway or anywhere nearby, but I can't help it. When you're talking about secrets this important, it seems impossible to say them lightly.

For a brief moment, a look of confusion, maybe even panic, crosses his face. His eyes dart away from mine for a second. I guess it soon dawns on him how I know, because he relaxes. I guess he realizes that I already know so much about the curse, and it can't hurt to let me in on a few more details.

"Yeah, I guess I should tell you the rest. You already know about the curse anyway," says Kyo. His voice is flat and I know that he's completely serious. He's staring at the floor and won't meet my eyes, almost like he is ashamed or something. I feel the tension in the air. Kyo is talking quietly, but it is not a whisper. You know how whispers can sound sort of like wind blowing? Kyo's voice is even, unnaturally emotionless. It's kind of scaring me, I don't think I've heard his voice this serious since all those weeks ago, when he came to help me to deal with the pain of losing Dad. I didn't know that Tohru knowing about the curse was such a dark secret, or even for sure that it was a secret at all, or else I never would have brought it up. But it's too late now.

"Well, you don't have to tell me now," I say, trying to stop this awkward conversation, even though I know deep down that it won't work. Maybe it will at least make some of the tension of the moment dissipate if I pretend not to notice it.

"Nah, I might as well," says Kyo. It seems like he's also trying to make this less intense and awkward. But the silence of the empty hallway is starting to feel stifling. I want to bolt from this conversation and never look back. No, I'm being ridiculous. I'm Arisa Uotani, since when do I run away from anything? I'm not the type of person who backs down, and this is just a conversation with Kyo, so why should I be so afraid? This is important information and why should I not want to know it?

"But what if someone hears us?" I hear someone say. Oh crap, I said it. And if that's not enough to make Kyo uncomfortable, I can't keep my eyes from darting from side to side, scanning the hallway. Just great, Arisa. Just great. Hey, maybe you'll get your wish and he'll stop talking.

"They wouldn't even understand what we were talking about. And anyway, if I told you at home, Shigure-"

"Uo-san!" calls a cheerful voice, interrupting Kyo. I instinctively jerk my head towards the sound, and Kyo does the same. That voice can only belong to one person. Sure enough, Tohru is running towards us, a big smile plastered across her face. Hanajima is beside her, just walking but somehow managing to keep up with Tohru's enthusiastic sprint. Hana looks almost like she's gliding, and her black hair, veils, and cape are trailing behind her, even though she's not supposed to wear a cape or veils with the school uniform. The sight would probably unnerve anyone who didn't know her that well, but I'm used to it.

"Hi, Tohru," I say. Normally Tohru always brings a smile to my face, but this time I have to force it. I'm not angry, I could never be angry with Tohru. Once or twice Hana and I have had minor arguments, usually because she can be brutally honest and always seems to be right.

But I don't think I've ever been really angry with her, and Tohru and I haven't had an argument since Junior High. That doesn't mean we always see eye to eye, but Tohru never does anything to anybody. Sometimes I'll want to feel angry at her for that, for not standing up for herself, but I just can't. She'd just apologize to me and mentally and emotionally beat herself up over it. How can I be angry at a person like that? I'd probably end up feeling bad about it and beating myself up as well. Besides, it's not like Tohru and Hana knew they were interrupting something.

I do feel a wave of annoyance, but I'm not really sure who it's directed at. Maybe myself. But then it's gone, and I can't help feeling grateful for the interruption. A part of me is afraid to know the truth, that it will be some awful secret that will ruin all that Kyo and I have. I know it sounds stupid, but I don't want to know just yet. I'm not ready for any more changes right now.

But I can't turn off my thoughts. As we sit down to lunch, I think about Shigure and how he fits into all this. Kyo was going to say something about him. Shigure doesn't seem evil or anything, not from what I know of him. He's sort of weird, and I'm not ever going near those books he writes. (On a moment of extreme boredom, I read the first page of _Summer Coloured Sigh_. I think I'll be scarred for life.) But weird is different than evil. I guess to be fair I haven't known him that long.

Besides, since when has the world been clearly divided into good and evil? I know that tons of people will swear on their lives that it is, but I just don't see things like that. I guess if someone was going to put us all into categories, I'd probably go into the "bad/evil" one. Not because I think I'm a bad person, but because I just don't fit in with the "good" group. Good people don't set fires. Good people don't get into fights in the streets. Good people don't join gangs.

But Kyo wouldn't love a bad person.

Maybe it's not that important. Maybe I think too much about all the wrong things. But the way Kyo's tone suddenly lost all emotion, as though he was confessing to something during a court trial… I can't forget that. There was something in his voice; just the slightest hint of guilt. Nah, what would Kyo have to feel guilty for? It's not like he's done anything to hurt me or anyone else. Well, I guess he's tried to hurt Yuki, but it never worked.

Dammit Kyo, why did you have to start that sentence? Why did you have to interrupt him, Tohru? Now I'm dying to know the rest of that sentence that he may never finish.

There's a conversation going on, but I'm not really paying any attention. It's not like we're talking about anything important, just homework, weather, that kind of thing. It doesn't take much thought to answer, I do so almost as a reflex. This sort of lets my thoughts wander wherever I want, which I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing. Tohru is saying something about "Yuki-kun." She really does always speak formally. Since she's been living with him for, I think two years, I think it would be perfectly acceptable to drop the –kun. They're practically married. I remember this one time, Tohru was serving dinner and we were all sitting around the table.

_"Thank you for this food," we all say. Me, Kyo, Prince Charming, and The Writer. Yuki is (for lack of an un-cliché phrase) gazing longingly at Tohru, who is, as always, not noticing. Yuki sighs (wistfully) and Kyo makes a gagging sound. Yuki glares at him and Kyo glares right back. I'm fighting the urge not to laugh, when Yuki throws a chopstick at Kyo, knocking him over. My eyes probably go really wide and it's taking Kyo a really long time to get back up. When he eventually does, there's a big red line on the side of his nose and face, where the chopstick hit. I never knew a chopstick could do __**that**__. I'm not sure whether to be amused or panic, and the first thing to go through my head is "Oh my god, The Prince has finally snapped." Tohru asks if we should call Hatori (some doctor I guess), but Shigure says not to worry, Kyonkichi heals fast._

It's kind of funny, but Kyo actually did heal pretty fast. The swelling was gone by the next day at school, and most of the redness as well. It just looked like a zit or something to all the people at school, which Kyo got a lot of teasing for, as he was the first Sohma in the history of the school to get a zit. The teasing got Kyo really annoyed, and… well… here's a brief sequence of events. Chopstick broke his nose (okay, not exactly, but it sounds better. You'll see what I mean). Teasing broke his patience. His fist broke a window.

Tohru could call him Yun, like everyone else seems to be doing. He's obviously annoyed by it but too polite to tell anyone to stop calling him that. I don't even know how that nickname got started, but it seems like the entire school population (yes, even some teachers) are now calling him that. I even call him that by accident sometimes. At this rate, more people will be calling him Yun that Prince. Or maybe Prince Yun. Heh,

Speaking of Prince, here he is right now. Yuki greets me pleasantly, but totally ignores Kyo, who glares at him. I wonder why they hate each other so much. I mean, Yuki _is_ seemingly perfect at everything, which can be really annoying, but I don't think that would make Kyo hate him _this_ much. This seems deeper than just a fight. But I know Kyo, and he wouldn't hate someone without a really powerful reason to do so. That isn't his personality.

"Damn rat," says Kyo, under his breath, but I hear it. Those words suddenly make me remember something. Kyoko told me a story once, about how there was a zodiac banquet. The rat tricked the cat so the cat couldn't come to the banquet and be part of the zodiac. I wonder if that has to do with the curse?

I know it's just a story, and I normally wouldn't believe it, but I normally wouldn't believe a guy could turn into a cat. Reality as I know it is falling away before my eyes. I know Kyoko told the story to explain some important point. I wish I remembered what it was, but I don't.

I start to panic. I _can't _forget Kyoko. If you knew her you would understand what I'm saying. She was a sentimental person; she'd want people to remember her. She saved my future and probably my life, can't I do her this one simple favor? I can't even keep my memories, all I have left of her, intact. I hate thinking of her like that, _her memory_, like she's gone. My mind can't grasp the fact, it's like trying to hold water in a fist.

I keep thinking I'm going to see her on the street, around the corner, that I'll pick up the phone and her voice will be on the other end. Just like I keep forgetting I'm never going to see dad again. Why do I keep thinking like this? I guess I should try to remember him, out of respect. I feel like such a hypocrite, half my brain devoted to remembering Kyoko, the other half to forgetting my father. Failing at both.

I know we must have had some good memories together. I think back as hard as I can, until my brain starts to hurt, desperately trying to find a happy memory.

_Mom left three days ago. Bottles are all over the place. Some are broken and light from the windows shine on them, filling the room with colourful lights and patterns. It would look beautiful if I wasn't so scared. Dad is lying on the floor, his back up against one of the white walls of our house, his chin resting on his chest. His clothes are dirty, he hasn't changed them in days. There are beer stains everywhere. His eyes start to flicker, like he is waking up. A low groan comes out of his mouth as his eyes open slightly. He squints and holds his head in his hands, like it hurts. "When's Mom coming home?" I ask. I've asked him this same question just about every moment he's been conscious._

_"I don't know, alright," he says. He kind of snaps at me, but there isn't enough energy in his voice to call it that. He more mumbles it. Always the same question. Always the same answer._

_A few days later, the phone rings. It has been the first call in a long time. I listen through the door of the next room. I know it is wrong, but I don't care. I hear some words, angry, but I can't hear what they are. Then crying._

_I don't ask again. I know the answer will be different, but I don't want to think of it. "I don't know" is better than "never." At least I hope it is._

_-/-/-_

_He's gone back to work, clean and wearing fancy clothes. The house is still messy, but maybe he will clean it as well. Maybe we can live a normal life without her. Or maybe she will come back, even though the phone call probably said she won't. But maybe she'll change her mind._

_-/-/-_

_He won't look at me. He hates looking at me. I remind him of her, I look just like her they always used to say. I hate looking like her. I am not her._

_I don't want to stay here anymore. If I go away he will never have to look at me anymore. He can always be happy and normal and clean. I will leave just like she left. I will not come back again._

I realize my eyes are wet with tears. Damn, what am I getting so emotional about? This all happened such a long time ago. I wipe my tears on the side of my sleeve, hoping no one noticed them. I swear to myself not to get depressed or cry. A few moments pass and I don't cry, but I am left feeling kind of empty inside. Almost abandoned, but I don't want to use that word.

"Uo-san? Are you okay?" asks Tohru.

"Yeah, fine," I say, trying to sound casual. Were my emotions really that obvious?

"Oh, okay. Um... I just, I just thought... never mind," says Tohru, also trying to sound casual. She fails miserably, but I probably did too.

"Well then don't..." I trail off, realizing how angry my voice sounds. I'm almost yelling at Tohru. "Worry," I say lamely, after a long and awkward silence. I caught myself before I said, "Don't think." I can't believe I almost said that, and to Tohru yet. How can I talk to her like that, don't I have any self-control? How could I ever think of saying something like that to Tohru? I feel like shit. I can't believe those words came out of my mouth. It's not just that it was unbelievably rude and I don't want to believe it, but this whole moment has sort of a surreal feeling. The flashback felt more like the real now, and this like the time-dulled memory. But this is happening now, and I feel powerless to change this, even though I know they were my own words. What's happening to me?

I see something that makes my thoughts stop dead. Against my will, I find myself standing up and gravitating towards the scene. Everyone else probably tries to stop me or at least ask where I'm going, but I don't hear their words. Their voices wash over me and I see movement out of the corner of my eye, but it doesn't seem important. I am hyperaware of only one scene, all my brain can process at the moment.

…

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Sorry about the cliffhanger, but I think the chapter is getting too long, I have to cut it off now. Hope you enjoyed it, please review!


	10. Silver Casualty

My Fault

Part Two

Chapter 10

Silver Casualty

Really weird chapter, but I thought stream of consciousness would work nicely here. Oh, and I just realized that I made a mistake in the last author's note. I said Tohru hasn't seen Arisa in a long time. That's not accurate; they just haven't talked in a long time. Also, it wasn't 405 times as long; it was 4.05 times as long. But the latter was an intentional mistake to see if anyone would realize.

This chapter is dedicated to Fluffy Blue Penguinz. I'm really sorry I forgot to thank you before.

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Arisa's POV 

The brilliant sun glints off a silver cylinder, held high in a hand like a torch. Decorative letters, bright red, fall across its side, making promises of greatness. Not for children, says a smaller print, in black. I'm sure I can hear the liquid move about within it, but maybe it's just my imagination. As I seem to float closer, not even aware of my legs carrying me, I almost think I can see the amber substance swishing around, and I can almost smell the sickly bittersweet odor that I had grown used to while at home. Three voices of three boys, second years I think, talk in excited voices.

"Wow, where did you get that?"

"Vending machine," the confident and boasting reply.

"Weren't you afraid of the police, or teachers? You know we're not supposed to leave campus without a reason." A third voice, excitement and worry mixed together.

"You honestly think I care about that?" The cocky reply.

"Point taken, man. Point taken." Throws up his hands in mock surrender.

"Dude, you're either really brave or really stupid. Either way's cool with me, just as long as you brought me back some too." The first voice again, acting like logic is on its side.

"You think I'd desert my best friends?" He takes off his backpack, which he has been wearing this whole time. He is visibly straining to move it without dropping it. He places it gently onto the ground, as though it is a valuable and fragile treasure. He undoes the fasteners on the black bag to reveal several cans. There must be at least two-dozen. The silver violently stands out against with the black, the intense sunbeams further enhancing this effect. I feel my blood turn to ice. Only in the last few weeks have I come to fully realize the meaning behind that expression. I can swear I just stopped breathing, that my heart stopped beating. I know that would make me dead, and I know it seems irrational, but I can almost believe that I just died.

I feel like I'm leaving my body and watching this whole scene from above. So surreal and yet vivid. My emotions are twisting and writhing within me in some insane and incomprehensible way. I'm confused and yet I know what is happening more clearly than I have ever thought possible. No daydreaming, no zoning out, just cold, hard, unforgiving reality. And reality is making me feel sick.

"Hey Uotani!" says the boy who brought the beer. I've seen him a few times before, everyone at school has. His name is Nobu something-or-other, and I think he's 16 or 17. I could care less about his name and age. The way he doesn't add any ending to my name when we haven't even talked before really makes me angry. What right does the little smart-ass have to be getting so familiar? Everything about the kid screams pseudo-gangster, the way he walks, talks, behaves. But I can tell that he's never been in a real fight in his life, unless you count jabbing insults at people and running away.

I feel like I'm exploding. He pops the lid of his can of beer with a calm and swift motion. I know I won't be able to contain the massive torrent of emotions that is overcoming me. "Want some?" he asks, smiling a cruel smile. I don't think he even realizes the malice behind his expression. In an everlasting moment he raises the can to his lips, the angle changing the way the sun hits the can into a shard of light that stings my eyes. The background fades to blackness and the voices die into a passing breeze.

All I am aware of is a silvery container.

Knife of light.

Brutal amused eyes.

Mouth about to drink.

Myself about to die again.

In a sudden punching/slapping movement, I feel my hand appear from nowhere and connect suddenly with metal. The can sits still and silent in the air as though weightless for a moment. Then it falls in what should have been only a few seconds but is instead unendingly occurring and repeating in my mind. It falls to the ground, hitting grey, cracked concrete. Bouncing three times, amber liquid spilling out into a puddle that expands until it runs like a small river into the grass, small ripples and waves further emphasizing the effect.

He looks down at the spilled liquid, then at me, gaping in disbelief. "What the hell was that for?" he asks. He has once again adopted a cool and calm façade, smiling face but anger evident in his eyes. I glare back into those eyes defiantly. They're the same brown as the spilled alcohol.

He laughs, sort of nervously at first but eventually morphing into harsh laughter. "Hey, it's not like I'm going to hurt a chick. I have a sense of honor you know." Leaning forward he adds in an undertone, "Now fuck off before you get hurt."

"What do you intend to do?" I say, my voice quiet, but, unlike his, loud enough so that everyone here can hear it. I've donned my own cold smile as I say these words.

"Ooooo," say a chorus of voices, probably his friends or just some random idiot spectators. They are mocking both of us, not that I can really blame them. We're both acting like fools I have to admit, but at least I have a cause for my rage.

Nobu glares at me, but I see his poker-faced expression briefly flicker in self-doubt. He obviously doesn't know what to say; I guess this is the first time a "chick" has stood up to him.

"Get lost you losers." I avert my gaze to see Kyo standing beside me. Did he just get here, or has he been standing there this entire time, watching out for me? I can't believe I didn't notice him standing right beside me, I must have been entirely focused on the scene that was unfolding, the clash that was building up.

"Watch your backs," snarls Nobu, turning his own back on us, and walking away, not even bothering to defend himself against the loser remark. His gang follows him away, none of them ever looking behind them. I restrain the urge to call out "loser" after them, knowing that I should be grateful this is all over. I mean, it's not like he'll try anything, so why should I try to pick a fight? He knows I can defend myself against even his crowd of several wannabe delinquents. Besides, I have Kyo on my side, and no one who's seen him in an angry mood would ever be stupid enough to get on his bad side.

I guess Nobu knows he's lost. He walked away with no better comeback than "Watch your back." I mean, where did he learn that line, TV? No one in a real gang would talk like that, unless they were a major rookie. If someone said that they would probably end up in a hospital. Or worse.

The weird thing is, I don't feel any satisfaction with my "victory." I guess it was a stupid argument with no real point behind it, but I used to get into fights like that all the time. It would be satisfying to win, even in a battle with no real purpose behind it, it would be good enough to feel like a winner for once. But now I don't feel like a winner at all. I don't seem to feel anything.

I see Nobu left his backpack behind. I peer inside, and confirm my suspicion that there are at least two-dozen tin cans in there. I stare at them for a moment, and then tear my eyes away in disgust. I pick up the bag, and, sure enough, it's heavy even for me, and I'm fairly strong. It takes both my hands to lift it, and my arms straining. Kyo wordlessly helps me deposit it in the garbage can. I guess he doesn't know what to say either. That's probably good, because I really don't want a conversation right now.

I don't experience any guilt about disposing of the bag and its contents. It was for those idiots' own good anyway. But when did I become so concerned about other people breaking the rules? It's not like I never drank before. Yeah, I know I'm underage, but as I said, I never really cared much for the rules. If you're in a gang for a while, it's not like drinking is the worst thing you're exposed to. I must be such a hypocrite, but I don't really care right now, to my surprise.

But even after getting rid of the backpack, I still don't feel any satisfaction. In fact, I've just realized that I'm not feeling anything at all right now. Just numbness, which isn't really a feeling. I tell myself that I did the right thing, but it makes no difference, especially when I don't know if I _did_ do the right thing. I did _something,_ but I don't even really know why anymore. My mind is still engulfed in total detachment. I guess I should be panicking, I thought I was getting better, and now this, but I can't even seem to find a trace of panic within me. I'm losing all my emotions and I don't even seem to care.

And somehow, my mind chooses this moment to remember philosophy. _You can control your thoughts and your emotions come from you thoughts. Therefore you can control your emotions._ That concept has never made sense to me, and in this situation I am finding it harder and harder to believe. I didn't choose to feel this way and I don't know why I would choose to. I have thousands of disconnected thoughts and no emotions.

Besides, if people could control their emotions like that, wouldn't we all just think of something happy all the time and pretend everything's all right? Come to think of it, I guess some people can do that. But even if I could do that though, I don't think I would. I'm just not that naïve, and I don't think I ever could be. I wonder, if we control our emotions, and I have no emotions, is that supposed to mean I have no self-control.

That thought is soon followed by a vivid flashback of moments before, when I yelled at Tohru for really no reason at all. I guess that philosophy does apply to me, I think bleakly. Now I just made myself feel guilty. In grim wonderment, I think about which was worse, the guilt or the empty nothingness? In the end, who cares? Both suck.

I calmly walk back to the table as though nothing has happened, and Kyo accompanies me. But I know that something has happened, and I feel so weird now. So different than I have ever felt before. Everyone is still here at the table, but the cheerful conversation has died out. We finish our lunches in total silence, but I've mostly lost my appetite. Everyone must have seen the argument between me and that guy, because this moment is extremely tense and awkward. Or maybe they're all still freaked out about my argument with Tohru.

Everyone avoids eye contact with me, which is usually a sign of politeness, but now it is mostly just a sign of awkwardness. Well, I guess I should say everyone except Kyo, who sends a few concerned glances my way. But I force myself to look away. Even though I'm grateful that he cares, I don't think I can face talking to him now. I need to figure out my emotions and organize my thoughts for myself before I can talk about them with anyone.

I guess I should apologize to Tohru later, maybe when we go back to the Sohma house. I never meant to hurt her, but I still acted really stupid. If it were anyone else they'd be angry with me, and yell at me like I deserved. If that was the case I wouldn't feel so bad. But that's not the situation here. This is Tohru, and she doesn't stand up for herself, ever. I've known her long enough to know that she'll keep her emotions inside and never say a word, then find some obscure way to blame it on herself and apologize to _me_. I hate myself so much for talking to her like that, and she hasn't even started apologizing yet.

I startle myself as I remember something I can't believe I forgot. Kyo's huge secret about Shigure and about Tohru knowing about the curse. Something in the back of my mind points out that I'm only thinking about this to distract myself. Oh well, distractions are a good think at a time like this.

The bell finally rings, and I never thought that I would be so grateful to be going back to class. Boring old classes, studying full time for exams… at the moment that seemed like an enticing prospect. At least it's less dangerous for me than being in a social situation, or getting lost in my own bitter thoughts.

We make our way back to the building, but I let everyone else walk ahead of me. Tohru sends a fleeting glance behind her, before continuing on her way back to school. I guess she's still afraid of offending me. But as the entire crowd moves on, I notice that Kyo also lags behind. "Hey Arisa… you okay?" asks Kyo, when we are the only ones left. His words have real meaning behind them, even though they sound simplistic. He cares about me so much, and his words aren't accusing. They carry no hint of a is-something-wrong-with-you accusation, like it usually does when people ask if you're okay. His concern is genuine, the real thing. Since Kyo is being so honest, I guess I have no choice than to be honest back. Besides, I don't think I could ever lie to Kyo.

"I don't know," I say quietly, "my thoughts aren't making any sense." I feel like I'm going to start crying uncontrollably right there, but I'm surprised when I don't. I guess I've run out of tears.

"It's not like anyone expects them to. Your life probably isn't making much sense at the moment. So much stuff's been happening to you, and now there's this whole magical cat secret thing you get dragged into." The last part of that sentence brings a small half-smile to my face. Magical cat secret thing. He really has a way with words. Somehow, I really do feel a lot better now.

Without really thinking about it, I kiss him on the mouth. His eyes widen in surprise but he also seems ecstatic, and he kisses me back. He runs his fingers through my hair. I really want to put my arms around him, and he probably wants to do the same for me, but I know that turning into a cat right before class is probably not in his best interest, so I somehow manage to find the self-control to resist and, eventually, pull away. I'm a bit short of breath. Kyo's blushing a lot, his face is bright red. I'm pretty sure mine is as well.

I take hold of his hand as we walk back to class. We walk as slowly as possible, neither of us wanting this moment to end. But it does, unfortunately, and soon we are back in class, sitting at our desks. Oddly enough, I feel much more focused now and I'm taking notes about Japan's economy. Not exactly an interesting topic, but I can survive. Later Kyo and I will finish that moment. Until then, I guess I'll just try my best at this school stuff, even if it is really boring. And later…

Okay, so I'm not completely focused on school. I'll try harder now.

"A phone call for Uotani-san," says a voice over the intercom, interrupting my internal monologue. As I walk out of the classroom, I feel countless eyes watching me. I guess they all remember that last time I was called for a phone call, I missed over a week at school. I think it was over a week, at least. It felt like a really long time.

As I leave the classroom, a feeling of déjà vu seems to grow within me with each step. It's exactly like three weeks ago when I was called out of the classroom, and it doesn't help the déjà vu that I've been having recurring nightmares about this moment, and what came after it last time. I've always awoken from those dreams either screaming or crying, but this time I know is worse. This time I know I'm not going to wake up.

I know it can't be as bad as last time. I don't really have anything left to lose now. I guess it must be something that has to do with the fight I got into earlier today. But to be fair it was more of an argument than a fight, and I don't know why I'd be getting a phone call about that. Come to think of it, it could be the police this time. That makes more sense than anything else at least.

I hesitantly open the door to the principal's office, where he is holding a phone in one hand, the other hand holding a pen. He must have been writing something when the call came in. "It's your mom," he mouths.

I'm sure I stand there just gawking at the held high phone for a few minutes.

Kyo's right. Things aren't making any sense right now.


	11. Control

My Fault

Part Two

Chapter 11

Control

This chapter has major, major spoilers. Akito spoilers, from up to chapter 122, I think. If you aren't prepared I recommend you skip this chapter. If you are prepared, read on.

This is a hard point of view to write for, but I thought it would be cool to get inside Shigure's mind. Please review, I worked really hard to rationalize his actions. And this is a really dark chapter by the way.

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Arisa's POV 

I can't believe it. I set down the receiver and simply stand there. The principal had the consideration to leave the room for me to have a private conversation with the voice on the other end of the phone. But did this really just happen? And how… how can I make a choice like this…?

…

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**Shigure's POV**

I know something you don't know, I know something you don't know, I know something…

The old childhood mantra plays over in my mind, as I stand here before Akito. It's a shame how so trite a maxim carries so much meaning, so much relevance, even once we are adults. I suppose it is simply human nature. The final ironic revelation that makes us Juunishi see at last that we are as human as anyone. But what's really so great, when it all comes down to it, about being human?

Really, think about it for a moment. We all lie. We're all doomed to die. But can you really deny that there is some beauty in the whole experience? Even in our darkest moments, there is something amazing about everything we do. The fact that we can help others, or hurt them, is proof that we are alive. That we are in control unless we choose not to be.

Maybe this is why I feel no guilt about what I am about to do. What seems like a spontaneous urge has actually been carefully planned out. I have been thinking about it, weighing all my options. And this decision, as harsh as it may be, will be best for us all. I know that it will break things, as Hatori once put it, but it is better to break it now. Before it has a chance to grow into something that will scar many more with shrapnel, when the inevitable happens and it breaks.

This is what will be best for them all. And for me. Now, I can only hope my plan goes as I have been hoping. As I am hoping now, bowing low so that my long hair falls against the floor, beside a deep red stain that still hasn't come out, despite relentless attempts to eradicate it. It is obviously the result of Akito's doing, an injury to one of the Juunishi or self-inflicted. As she dies, she is becoming more and more volatile, indiscriminately damaging everything she can grasp. I don't know why exactly. Maybe an act of rage that her life is being cut so short. Maybe just to prove that she is still alive and has some control of what goes on around her.

"Shigure, why are you here?" she asks, the anger rising in her voice. She knows I rarely wait for an invitation to speak. But even with anger fueling it, the weakness in her voice is easily discernible. It's rough, like she hasn't talked in a while, or maybe she has been yelling. Hatori told me that she often screams now. While, I guess she screamed before, but now it is much more intense. It is as though she is not holding anything back. She will yell when there is no one around, and she will yell at the people who come to see if she is all right. And sometimes she will lapse into complete silence for days at a time, and people will worry that she has died already.

It is so weird to think that in a few years she will be gone. Which is why I have to do this. There is not much time left. About a thousand days, I think. Math was never my strong point, and it is difficult to think about such morbid things in terms of numbers. She is fading away right now, as many factors combine cruelly to end her short life. Her father's poor health, the zodiac curse, not to mention the innumerable scars Ren left her with. It's no wonder that Akito is paranoid… but one has to ask, is it really paranoia after all this? It seems regrettably rational.

She is glaring daggers at me in this dark room. She always refuses to turn on the lights. Maybe they sting her eyes, or she simply doesn't want anyone to see what she has become. But I can see it. The animal of the dog may have poor eyesight but, as I have previously stated, I am human. Her dark robe and longish black hair contrast sharply with her pale skin that has whitened even further since I last saw her. The shadows that make up this room further enhance this effect, making her look ghostly and inhuman.

Akito is about to open her mouth to say something, but I speak first, just to irritate her. "Why, I have come to wish you a pleasant day, Akito," I say, smiling coldly. I can tell that she doesn't buy it, and her fists clench in frustration. So, she doesn't trust me so much anymore. That's probably to her benefit as well as mine. I'm not exactly a trustworthy person, and now I don't have to live up to such expectations anymore. Akito has never seemed naïve, but she clearly is to some degree. It's odd how one can be both paranoid and naïve, but in the Sohma family we have all seen stranger things. And in Akito's position, anyone not suspicious to an extreme degree would be incredibly naïve.

Not that anyone would try anything, for two obvious reasons. Why would someone, when they know they'll be punished. Besides, she'll be gone soon enough, and she can't punish them then. I'm probably the only one who would dare to be this disrespectful. Maybe because I have some insight into the way her mind works. It's a frightening process, but really quite simple. She wants control, something I can easily sympathize with. That's the driving force behind most of my own actions, after all.

"Why are you really here?" she is almost yelling at me. While, I guess it is my duty to reward her curiosity. She's catching on so much more quickly now.

And I tell her everything. I don't really enjoy telling her, as strange as that is. I have been planning this for so long, but it is harder to say those words than I would expect. But I hadn't been looking forward to saying those words. I had been looking forward to seeing what effect I would have on the world around me, simply put. Perhaps it sounds sadistic, but I want to see what I've caused to happen.

I speak for a long time, my tone very gentle, my words not. I often pause, as much for dramatic effect as it is to further annoy her. But even though I can be so unkind to her, I actually care about her. I don't pretend to care like everyone else, which I know she can see through. I can indulge her paranoia and still have some concern about her. It's more than any of the other Juunishi bother to do.

As I finish my recounting of the events, Akito stands up. "I'll get him for this. I'll lock him up before this can go any further. He'll regret ever betraying me." He voice is quiet, but there is no less danger in it than there is when she is shrieking without moderation about the many things she finds unfair in her life. She walks over to the lone window in the room and pulls back the thick curtain, which up 'til now had hidden away almost all daylight. It isn't very bright anymore outside, it is almost evening but the sun has not yet set. Even the scarce remainder of the sunlight is hard on my eyes. I suppose they have adjusted to the near-total darkness. I can practically feel my pupils constrict in response to the sudden illumination.

Maybe my night vision isn't as acute as I thought before. This new light reveals details in shocking clarity. I can see the determination narrow Akito's eyes, but they still look too large on her thin face. Her long eyelashes make them appear larger, of course, as do the shadows under her eyes, which do not disperse as easily as the ones in the room.

"Kureno, come," says Akito loudly. She doesn't exactly call out for him to come. She simply says it loudly as though to the walls, as though she expects him to hear. Sure enough, he must have heard it, because he just entered. He doesn't say anything, he's too obedient for that. Or maybe he is simply too broken to attempt to say anything for fear of angering her. I am unlike him in all ways. I will never be broken. Peculiar that the dog is the only one who will never be tamed.

I leave the room without asking, but Akito doesn't bother to stop me (maybe she doesn't realize I've left). From outside, I hear her mutter something about "Them all returning in the end." I assume 'they' refers to the Juunishi, and a small smile creeps onto my lips. She'll never break us all. I wonder if she realizes that but can't face it, or if she is simply out of touch with reality.

"Haa-san, drive me home, will you?" I ask, when I am a good distance away from Akito, and Hatori and his car have come into view. The morose dragon must have been standing there for some time waiting for me. I had called him up and asked him to take me here, and he hadn't refused, though it was obvious from his expression that he didn't want to. I suppose that he feared that if he didn't do as I said I would tell Akito unpleasant things about him.

Ah, it wounds my heart to think that my own childhood friend would be afraid of me. I suppose he's wise.

"Did you tell Akito?" he asks, his voice monotonous and accusing at the same time. His speech is always the same low, emotionless tone. Actually, I don't know if it was his tone that alerted me to his anger with me, or simply just that I have known him so long that I have learned to read him. I can't even really call it anger, perhaps it is more disappointment. Or some new intonation unique to Hatori.

And it hits me that he doesn't even know about Kyo and his girlfriend, so why would he ask such a question? For the first time in what must have been years, I am genuinely surprised. "Tell her what?" I ask, no masked emotions or hidden undertones in my voice, just surprise.

Hatori shrugs. He is standing completely still, not even fidgeting. He's like a statue, on so many levels. Standing tall and lonely, emotionless and forgotten. I suppose Akito has broken him as well, though not to the same degree as Kureno. The fact that Hatori would be angry with me for telling Akito something is proof that there still is some remnant of rebellion in him. "I don't know."

"Then why are you asking?" I reply. Hatori and I have always been close companions, and it is rarely that we do not understand each other. I didn't even tell Akito about Kana, and Hatori is probably the only person I would be willing to lie to for. Aside from myself, I suppose. I'd lie to her if there were something in it for me. I suppose that sounds selfish, but it is the truth.

"You had that look on your face, Shigure. You try to hide it, but it's obvious you've just done something."

"You know me too well, I see. Yes, I suppose I have."

Hatori lets out an exasperated sigh. On the drive back to my place, he won't talk to me at all. It's now, while I sit in the passenger seat and absentmindedly watch him drive, that I am surprised for the second time today. Something I did, or didn't do, actually, and didn't realize up until this moment.

I didn't tell Akito everything. I didn't mention the fact that Uotani knows about the curse. _What's this, some kind of strange act of kindness? _It's so odd that I didn't realize it until scrutinizing in retrospect all the events of the day. I suppose I could have withheld the information subconsciously, trying to do Uotani a favor. Letting her be spared Hatori's mind cleansing, letting her remember that she loved Kyo.

And I turn my head and see Hatori, his face serious (He's never really smiled since losing her), his eye injured and near blinded (and both eyes filled with an entirely different kind of pain). No, it wouldn't be a favor. A favor would be to let her forget.

_A curse of her own? _Maybe I had wanted her to suffer, to remember. But I don't think I would have, at least I hope not. I like things that amuse me, I like making an impact, and I like being in control… but I don't think I'd make her suffer for no reason, and she wouldn't stay at the house any longer, so I wouldn't be able to see what impact I had made…

The car jerks slightly as it stops, in front of my house. I am about to get out, but Hatori stops me with a few words. "You know…" Intrigued, I pull my head back into the car, and look at him encouragingly. He looks away. Staring out into space through his window, so that all I can see is the back of his head, he continues. "I'm just as bad as you."

"I know," I say, "that you think you are." With a goofy grin that I know seems misplaced at the moment, I walk into my house. There is a loud sound of gravel crunching and tires pulling away, and I know that he's left.

As I enter the house, one question is still gnawing at my mind. _Did I just not say because there was no reason to? _Yes, that's a good enough answer, I guess.


	12. Watchtower

My Fault

Part Two

Chapter 12

Watchtower

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Author's Note: Not much to say this time. I'm sorry it took so long to update, there's been a lot of homework lately. Updates probably won't be as regular anymore, but I'll write when I can. Thanks to all my reviewers. The list would be kind of long if I thanked all of them, so from now on I'll only thank people here if they reviewed the previous chapter. So thanks Hoppy-Chan and Mizuki Hikari.

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Kyo's POV:

Once again I'm wondering how Akito's logic works. I mean, what's the point of the cat going to school? Since I'm going to be locked up right after I graduate, I won't exactly need a good education to sit around in a stupid little room, about the size of a box.

Akito's reminded me on several occasions that I have no future. Isn't she a nice person, always making sure I don't get my hopes up? Akito, I hate your guts. It's a small little room, no furniture or decoration except a futon and a little table, to eat at I guess. But I don't trust her not to poison whatever food there is.

It wouldn't be lethal, of course. Being a control freak as well as a twisted sadist, Akito wouldn't want me dead.

My point is, if I'm just going to be her property, what's the point of educating me? Sure, she's never struck me as the sane type, but this is just stupid. Damn you Akito, why don't you just die already?

I know I sound bitter and harsh, but why shouldn't I? How would anyone else be after finding out that their life was predetermined by a criminally insane anemic? Akito was always talking about destiny, how it is my birthright to carry the curse of the cat, etcetera. I never listened, or at least I pretended not to. I tried not to care and it's only recently that I realized I did. Thinking about it I wonder who I actually managed to convince with my ridiculous act. Not Akito, not Shigure, not Yuki. I don't know if I even convinced myself.

I hate this. I hate the Sohma family. I hate the curse. I hate the life that I'm forced to live.

And dammit, I hate how now I'm thinking like Yuki. He has no idea how good he has it, and he has the nerve to call_ me_ baka. He's always moping around, even though he's the one who's going to get to live a normal life, free. And he could be happy if he just stopped his stupid self-pitying for one fucking moment. But he won't. I guess it's just his nature, his destiny, as Akito would put it. I never used to believe in destiny, or at least I'd try not to. But I've already been over this. And I already admitted it didn't work.

It's common knowledge in Japan that if you drop out everyone will consider you a shame to your family. But why does that even apply to me? Everyone in my immediate family has either killed themselves or disowned me. And my extended family is already ashamed of me for being born the cat.

Enough, I have to stop thinking about this. I'm walking home from school, Arisa's right beside me; I shouldn't be so depressed now. There's still more than half a year before school ends. I can't just waste that short time moping around. I guess my last few moments of freedom are precious, or something, and I should at least try to enjoy them.

And no, last few moments of freedom is _not _that much of an exaggeration. Sure, I have a few months left, but that doesn't amount to much in the long run. About five months probably doesn't even make up even one percent of my life. But who knows, the cats of the zodiac don't tend to live very long. Why is it our destiny to be imprisoned when we obviously can't survive it?

Didn't I just resolve to try and enjoy myself and stop thinking about all that crap? Okay, relax Kyo.

But lately I just can't relax. I know there's no way out of this. I could run away, but I'd always be marked by my hair and eyes. I could dye my hair, buy contact lenses, but I know I'd be found anyway. Shigure has a habit of reading your mind, finding out all your secrets, and then reporting it all to Akito. There's no way out, but I can't just give in. But whatever plan I come up with is always useless.

For some weird reason it reminds me of when I was training in the mountains. It's either ironic or just plain stupid that my mind would make a connection like that. When I was the freest I have ever felt in my life compared to when I am soon going to be a prisoner. Anyway, Shishou would show me all the most complicated martial arts moves. He's the strongest fighter I've ever met, and he could completely immobilize a skilled warrior before they had any time to react. But there was always a way out, he would say. There's always a way to change the way a battle's progressing. I guess I didn't learn enough. I could never get out of those holds, and I never learned enough to defeat Yuki. Maybe life isn't like martial arts, and there isn't always a way to turn everything around… or maybe I was just never strong enough. Oh well, at least I have some good memories of fights I almost won.

I've been having anxiety attacks lately, at least I think that's what they are. It makes about as much sense to call them as anything. There are these moments where I just completely panic and know that there is hardly any time left. My thoughts get all confusing and I can't really follow them, and I know even as it's happening that it doesn't matter what I think. Soon I'll have no control of my life and what I think at the present won't have any effect on that fate. I guess I could ask Hatori if they really are anxiety attacks, but I really don't see how having a name for them would change anything.

I always thought that there'd be something that would keep me from being imprisoned, some miracle I guess. But miracles don't happen, especially not to the cat. If there's one thing I've learned from the Sohma family, it's that no supernatural power is ever going to help you; they're only going to ruin your life. Trust me, I know all about the supernatural. I do have an ancient curse on me.

And thinking of the present isn't exactly taking my mind off things. Arisa doesn't know most of the details of the curse, and I still don't know if I intend to tell her. I know that sounds really unethical, but no one else in the Sohma family seems to have any standard of ethics either. I don't want to be like them, but I do wish that they would accept me. I know it doesn't make much sense, or at least that I'm not very good at putting it into words.

Maybe not making sense is genetic and in the DNA of all the Sohmas, me included. Akito is insane, Shigure's just plain evil, Yuki's… Yuki. He's always sulking around, not realizing how good he has it. He's not going to be locked up. He's going to get to live a normal life, graduate, get a job, maybe get married to one of his fans. No one's calling him a murderer or demon.

Dammit, I'm being just as bad as that rat. I've got to stop wallowing in my self-pity.

Tohru and that stupid rat are probably already at the house. Arisa and I both left the school pretty late, she had to stay after school for some reason and I waited for her. I thought it was about that fight, and I tried to tell the principal that when I saw him at the end of the day that it wasn't Arisa's fault, those kids were asking for it. But he just brushed me aside and said the matter was none of my business. Being talked down to like that really pissed me off, if something bad was happening to Arisa it _was_ my business. But I managed to control myself, even though inside I could feel myself screaming. I thought she'd tell me later what had happened.

But neither of us has been able to bring it up for some reason. We're both walking slower than usual, but we're not looking at the scenery that's passing us by. At least I'm not. I guess I'm walking this slow because I'm hoping she'll bring it up before we get back and Shigure ruins our privacy. I know he listens at doors, I've caught him a few times. Besides, I don't trust him not to have bugged the place.

Arisa hasn't said anything since school ended, and I guess it's way too optimistic to assume that she'll just decide out of nowhere to tell me what happened. At least she hasn't brought up the curse and its details. I've told her there's more to know, and she knows that I'll tell her when she asks. That she hasn't asked means she either has forgotten or doesn't want to know. I don't know if I'm supposed to feel relieved or disappointed that she doesn't care enough to ask. It's unexpected at least. She never seemed to be afraid of the unknown before. But this is a secret that could actually hurt her to know, so she sure has a right to fear it.

The trees are starting to thin out, and I know we're getting closer to home. I raise a hand to my face to block out some of the vicious sunlight that's obscuring my vision. Sure enough, I can see the house. It looks annoyingly cheerful, like it's laughing at me. That proves it, I'm going insane. Since when has a house been able to laugh or be cheerful? Insane hallucination or not, it's sure getting on my nerves.

As the house gets closer, I can make out more of the details. The cat naturally has good vision, which helps. The one perk to being born the cat. Great. The actual zodiac members are ingrained with wisdom, magnetic personalities, leadership quality, etcetera, and I get eyesight and a box to live in. I can see Shigure standing by the door, scanning the scenery, his gaze directed upwards as though looking for something. The landscape here is mostly flat, but there's a little bit of a hill that you have to pass over on the way home from school. Actually, there's quite a few ways to get back to the house, but I like the one that passes over the hill. So I guess it's probably us he's searching for, but I have no idea why. I never got the impression that he cared about anyone other than himself before, so I guess he wants something from me.

Suddenly he looks straight up into my face. I try to keep my eyes from meeting his, but it doesn't work and he smiles and starts to wave wildly, even as his eyes bore into me. The way he's looking at me makes me feel like I'm being dissected and he's taking notes on everything he finds inside me. And it wouldn't be so unnerving if he wasn't smiling at me as he's taking me apart.

I vividly imagine Shigure flying through the air, limbs sticking out at awkward angles, an agonizing cry escaping his lips. I'm usually not this malicious, but I've never liked Shigure and now hate him more than ever. Hate him because I know that he's the one ruling my life. Whatever he sees he can report back to Akito. It has dawned on me that that's why she sent me to stay with him. He's even worse than her. Shigure is fully aware of what he's doing to people, who he's hurting. But he doesn't care; or worse, he enjoys it. And they call the cat a monster. That sociopath is the one who needs to be confined.

But even though I can imagine exacting revenge on him, I know it will never happen. He just holds too much power. And the way he's smiling gleefully now makes me sure that he can see my little imaginary world and finds it highly amusing. _I'd like to see you try, _his eyes taunt me.

"Welcome back," he says warmly, beckoning us in with an overdramatic sweep of his hand. I walk inside without a word to him, thoroughly pissed off by his antics. They're completely out of place now, and he must know that. Arisa follows me in, saying an almost silent word of greeting to him. I didn't think she'd put up with his idiocy, she must be more troubled by whatever just happened than I thought.

I look at her, to see if she's okay. Man, I must have been a complete jerk on the way back here; I just realized that I was too lost in my thoughts to bother to really check if she was alright. I swear, it seems like I'm becoming more and more like Yuki. Pretending to be warm and friendly but really cold and distant; except, I'm not as good at pretending as he is.

Her eyes aren't red or anything, she hasn't been crying. She's looping a strand of shiny hair around her index finger, like she does when she's nervous. I've never seen her do that before "the incident" (as we all seem to be referring to it, because no one can come up with a name for it that doesn't seem insensitive). I don't know if that's because she never got nervous before then or just because she had too much self-control.

I want to ask her if she's all right, but before I can, Shigure grabs me by the arm and drags me from the room. "I need to borrow Kyo-kun for a moment, Uotani-san," he says airily. I struggle a little, but not so much that anyone would notice besides Shigure and me. But Shigure tightens his grip on my arm, I'm sure I can feel the circulation being cut off by his never before shown strength.

"Okay," says Arisa, leaning against a wall and following me with her eyes as I'm dragged away. Her eyes seem surprisingly dull, but I don't have a long time to look because I can't unhook Shigure without making a scene.

Now standing in the spare room with Shigure, I glare angrily into his face. "What's your problem?" I exclaim, anger obvious in my voice.

Shigure closes the door behind him before responding. "I just thought there was something you should know," he says with a smirk as he returns my glare. His eyes are steely and cold, and I know he's pleased to know something I don't.

"Well, spit it out!" I growl, knowing that he's only putting it off to get on my nerves.

"Really want to know?" he asks. His tone makes it hard to tell if he's mocking me or is seriously asking me my opinion. I'll never figure out the way his mind works. He's impossible to understand. But screw that, what does he want to tell me?

"Yeah. I do want to know," I say, confidently and with an arrogant smirk of my own, as much an act of defiance towards him as it is to reassure myself that I'm still me. He's not going to mock me and get away with it.

He sighs. Not a silly, melodramatic sigh like he always used when making fun of me, but a real sigh, like he doesn't know how to say this. That simple sound sends a chill down my spine.

When he finally speaks I wish he hadn't.

"Say that again?" I ask nervously, not caring how stupid it sounds. I'm hoping I misheard, that this is just some hallucination where my worst fears have clouded over reality.

"Akito has decided to come tomorrow to take you away." He won't meet my eyes, he's just staring to his right, down at the floor, his hair falling over one of his eyes. I'm amazed I'm noticing details like this, I wouldn't think I'd be noticing anything. I don't know what I expected I'd be feeling if something like this happened. Not this.

I've thought about it so much that now that it's actually happening it doesn't seem real. I guess the news hasn't really sunk in yet, or I'm just taking it well. I'd guess the former. Well, before it sinks in and I lose my composure, I'd better sort out some details and try to salvage what I can of my life. I'll try to approach this like Shigure would, cold and analytical.

"You sure about that, Shigure?" I ask, with what I hope is a calm and cocky voice.

He seems a bit taken aback by my response, but he quickly masks his surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, isn't the deal between Akito and me still valid? If I beat Yuki before he comes for me, like, theoretically, wouldn't Akito have to hold up our deal and not imprison me?" I'm a bit annoyed at the word "like" slipping into my speech, but I think other than that it went rather well. I'm attempting to reverse the roles in this conversation and make Shigure the vulnerable one. I think I succeeded in throwing him off a bit, because when he speaks next he stammers a little.

"W-well, yes, I would assume that to be the case."

"In that case, Yuki and I will be having one final fight. You're welcome to watch, I know you can never keep yourself out of other peoples' business, anyway." As he looks up with disbelief and meets my gaze to see if I'm serious, I shoot him a glare that makes him cringe.

I'm dead serious.


	13. Entrapments

My Fault

Part Two

Chapter 13

Entrapments

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Author's Note: I'm sorry it took so long to update this. I had to play in the badminton championships for school, write a math competition, and then my computer got a virus and wouldn't let me use the Internet. And I hope I didn't use too many adjectives in this. And I won't be able to update until next month. I'm going to Washington (YAY!) and I have final exams (NOOOOOOOO!) Infinite thank yous to kyorocks,beautifulhate, locked-away rainbow, and Hoppy-Chan.

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In an absolutely lightless room, a maddening silence was finally shattered by a voice, frailty and viciousness fused seamlessly together. "You've grown, Kyo." In the inky blackness of the room, a hand reached out and a finger lifted the boy's chin, forcing him to look the figure in the eyes. Eyes like a vacuum, consuming all light, consuming all hope, consuming all will.

"Don't touch me," hissed the boy, drawing back. But he knew that his fear was clearly seen past his mask of disgust.

Akito Sohma narrowed her eyes to slits, and her mouth, which had always been thin, almost completely disappeared. The moments crept by and the boy knew that retribution was looming ahead of him. Then the woman smiled, an expression that would have looked unnatural on her face had it not been filled with hatred. He would have thought himself used to Akito's unpredictable, bizarre, and usually malevolent mood swings, but her expression still sent a chill down his spine.

The boy's eyes glowed eerily in the darkness, reflecting light from a source unknown. Only a few clumps of his unruly mane obscured their peculiar brightness.

Even though he was in his late teen years and an accomplished martial artist, he appeared defenseless and small in the room. The room that the Sohmas referred to as the "Room of Darkness." Though they called it this jokingly, they all knew that there was nothing remotely humorous about the place. It was a room where all life seemed to have been sucked out. It served as a reminder of the shackles that bound all the Sohmas to Akito, and to the fate to which all living things were bound: death. They all knew that in the end, they would all come back to her, unwilling though they may be.

"I see your time in the mountains has done nothing for your disgusting manners. Nor, I would suspect, much for you martial arts skills."

The boy clenched his fists, fighting against every fiber of his being, not to scream "Shut up!" He was headstrong, not stupid, and he had to admit that there was no way he could go unpunished for talking like that to the head of the Sohma family. Instead he muttered, "That's not true."

"But you know it is. None of us can fight our fate, and the simple fact is: some of us are simply greater than others. You are the cat: a monster. A monster who killed his own mother and can never hope to be anything other than a cursed demon."

"Don't say that. I don't believe in that fate, it's not true! I'll crush that fate and prove it to you!" The boy's eyes were wild and filled with hatred and sorrow as the memories came surging back into him. _She's gone…_

"You know your destiny Kyo. It's all you'll ever know in life. But perhaps your curiosity deserves a reward. I'll make a deal with you."

"Yeah?" inquired the teen, impatient and knowing he wasn't going to like the "reward."

"If you can beat the rat, I'll let you avoid confinement. I'll even let you become a Zodiac Member. Because you can't win." She laughed, a cruel and terrible sound ringing out.

"Deal! I will beat the rat!"

The world fades out of existence, nausea seeming to take over.

…

I wake up to find myself… jeez, where am I anyway? I stretch my neck, which is sore from the awkward position. I don't even remember falling asleep. I haven't been getting much sleep lately; I guess the fatigue is catching up to me.

This is definitely Shigure's house, and the pile of martial arts books tells me that it must be my room. I sit up on the hard floor. Definitely my room, I guess it just took me a while to recognize because of the weird angle.

Crap, I was supposed to fight Yuki today! Come to think of it, that might have been yesterday. Damn, I better not be too late. Light is streaming in through the window, and it looks like either evening or early morning. I can't see the sun because it's behind a copse of trees, making them black framed with red. But I really don't have any time to "marvel at the wonders of nature."

My heart starts to beat really fast as it dawns on me that if I slept too late my fate could already be decided. Turning the face of my alarm clock toward me, the numbers 6:33 and a flashing red dot come into view. A wave of relief washes over me as I realize I still have time. I only got home from school at 3:30, so I couldn't have slept longer than three hours. Hopefully this will work in my favor and give me a bit more energy for the upcoming battle.

I pull myself to my feet, feeling sore all over. I guess that disproves my theory. Why did I have to fall asleep on the floor? I was right beside my bed. I'm still feeling really disoriented, and there's a surreal feeling that won't go away. I guess it's because I can't remember falling asleep, much less anything else that happened today.

I try to recall the events of earlier today, and eventually they start to come back to me. Shigure told me I was going to be imprisoned, and I told him I wanted to fight Yuki. He agreed. It was really weird, he just agreed without so much as a snide remark or stupid joke. I went to my room to quickly look up any moves that could be useful in the fight, more to calm myself down than to learn anything as I've already memorized the skills in most of the books. I must have fallen asleep right then. Man, when all this is done I can probably go back to sleeping at night.

I haven't challenged Yuki yet, so I leave the room to search for him. I find him quickly enough; he's in the living room with Tohru and Arisa, he and Tohru studying, Arisa reading one of my manga, once again. She raises her eyes from the page, saying "Yo," by way of greeting.

"Hey," I say.

Yuki's ignoring me for his science textbook, but Tohru quickly greets me. "Hi Kyo-kun!" she says cheerfully, "Where were you?"

"Asleep."

"Eh? But it's the middle of the day!"

"I was tired, I'll sleep when I want."

"I meant no offence, of course," she says in a small voice.

I roll my eyes and say, careful to not sound angry at all, " Look, not everything you do is offensive. Chill out."

Yuki, his eyes still fixed on the textbook says, " Yes Honda-san. There is no need to waste your apologies on Kyo here."

Can he not go one second without insulting me? "Hey rat, I came here to talk to you," I say.

"Oh really?" he asks, finally looking up from his book, seeming mildly interested.

"I'm here to challenge you to one final fight." I feel some pride at how calmly I was able to say that. His attitude already has my blood boiling, but as his eyes widen in surprise at my challenge, it's almost like our roles change. Maybe I'm getting the hand at this manipulation thing: I guess I have my Sohma ancestry to thank for that. He's usually the emotionless one, which is probably why he always has the upper hand. Now I'm the one who seems to be in control, even though that's just an illusion. In reality I have no clue why I'm not in a state of total panic.

"I accept your challenge," he says, regaining his icy demeanor. I find our roles reversed once again, back to our regular ones. I'm left wondering why he just agreed to it without so much as uttering a "Baka neko." I wish it were because he's finally taking me seriously, considering me a worthy opponent, but I know that's not the reason. His attitude doesn't let him think he has equals.

And the worst thing about it is that he's actually strong. If he was just an egomaniac I could at least pound the crap out of him and teach him a lesson, but he's actually skilled. He's one of those people that do everything perfectly without even making an effort, and even though I hate him I can't deny that he's got a right to be proud.

So I guess that means the only reason that he's letting me off without an insult is because he's trying to play mind games with me, get me lost in thought so I lose. Or maybe he's taking pity on me. He doesn't know about me being imprisoned, unless Shigure or Akito told him without my permission. I guess my words "final fight" made him realize that this is important, or he thinks I'm desperate. But I'll prove I don't need his pity. I have to win this, remember everything I was taught so that I can win this. I have to honor Shishou by showing him that his training had a purpose.

"Where do you want to fight?" I ask, grinning mainly to calm myself down, as well as in an act of defiance towards Yuki.

"Your choice," he says politely.

I only need a second to think about it before the perfect place comes to mind. " The roof," I reply. I know it sounds strange, but it makes sense to me. I spend a lot of time there, and I do a lot of my training there, so I have the home advantage. Yuki doesn't go up there, so he wouldn't know all the footholds and most balanced places to stand. Also, there's an element of danger that hopefully would affect someone who didn't go there often.

He's obviously surprised by my choice, but after a moment he nods. "Hmm. I shall see you in battle," Yuki says respectfully as he exits the room.

I notice that Arisa has been watching the exchange with interest. "What do you mean you're going to fight on the roof? You mean you're both just going to hit each other or is this some weird family custom?"

"More like the second one," I say.

…

I'm standing on the roof across from Yuki. Our shoes and socks are on the ground below us, along with the spectators: Shigure, Tohru, and Arisa.

'Woot! Go Kyo!" says Arisa, half-joking. It's good she doesn't realize how serious this is. If I lose, I don't know what I'll do without her. It would be so ironic, to have finally found a real reason for living only to be taken away from her a few weeks later. But I don't want to think about that now. If I obsess over losing it will become a self-fulfilling prophecy. It's best I concentrate on the present, try my hardest, and don't give up.

"Bow to your opponent," Shigure calls, loudly from below the house. As I lower my head a strange calm overcomes me, a feeling I'm used to whenever there's a battle. I'm hyperaware, I can feel the ripples on the tiles under my bare feet, can feel the wind blowing through my hair and clothes. It's kind of cold, but once we start moving the wind will feel refreshing.

We circle eachother, neither ready to launch the first attack. We're a good distance away, so the attacker will have to charge or dive and attack. I know I'm expected to attack first, typically being the more impulsive of the two of us. That's why I wait, attempting to confuse my opponent. An unknown amount of time passes. When I'm in a fight I'm both extremely aware and completely blind to my surroundings. I guess, simply put, I only notice things that are relevant to the outcome of the duel.

I notice a slight moment of Yuki's foot, a step backwards of one foot and the readying of the other as though to lunge. I dodge back to see how he will react, just for a moment, and when he seems startled, I launch my attack.

I send a kick aimed at chest-height towards him. It connects, but only lightly as he immediately dodges back. I rapidly pull my foot back, the shift in balance causing my long belt to whip around. Before I have time to think, Yuki charges at me, rushing close before sending a low kick.

I leap back, landing more than slightly off-balance. The rat, seeing a weakness, attacks again, and before I can block I'm hit by three punches to the chest. A stinging sensation bursts inside me, and my vision starts to become clouded by drifting multicolored specks, quickly covering everything in sight. I'm only aware of my own thoughts and the weird painful feeling.

Knowing that I'm about to pass out or go momentarily blind, I squint a bit and my eyesight returns, first a little blurry and dark, then I force myself to blink rapidly, clearing my sight. The first thing I see is Yuki, standing across from me, posed to strike or defend, but a look of concern on his face.

"You all right?" he asks, offhandedly.

"Why the hell wouldn't I be?" I snap. Actually, I'm probably not all right, as his attack seems to have screwed up something inside me and I feel like I'm going to throw up. But what's really bothering me is that rat looking down on me. If I can't win by sheer force, I'll win by endurance. I won't stop fighting until I'm paralyzed with exhaustion. Sure, it will probably feel like hell, but it beats being locked up. At least it's brief.

_Kyo, you can still win this, _says Shishou. I turn my head to see where the voice came from, but Shishou isn't here. I must have jus imagined it, but it seemed really clear…

But that doesn't change the fact that that's what he would say. I charge at Yuki, who's caught by surprise. Another high kick sends him back a few feet when it connects with him. Suddenly he jumps into the air, doing a forward flip, as though he's using the force from my kick to propel himself up into the air by some strange exploitation of gravity. He seems to be hanging suspended in the air for a moment, before touching down on the roof with his fingertips, drawing his hands back, and landing agilely on his feet.

I realize that my mouth was hanging open slightly, probably in shock at the impressive move. I quickly come back to my senses and regain my concentration, but not before Yuki takes advantage of my distraction. Our eyes meet for a moment, and with a look of... smugness? He positions himself to attack.

I can tell that he's counting on this being his finishing move. And I know what move it's going to be. For a second, time seems to freeze, and his kick, the same type I had used only moments before, hits me.

My feet seem to float off the shingles, like the sky is pulling me into the air by my stomach. I go flying, quite literally, completely powerless into the air. I'm not afraid, or even surprised. Not a single thought or emotion goes through my head, just dim realization of what's happening - and not caring.

Then it's just over. I start falling back down, I know it's fast but it feels endless. I land on my feet, the semi-coarse shingles feeling cold and rough all of a sudden. I don't have to look back to realize I'm near the edge of the roof, a few feet back and I would have definitely fallen off. Call it instinct, or maybe just knowing these surroundings.

I notice for the first time that the sky is a dark navy blue and a few stars have started to appear. We must have been fighting for two hours, at least.

I wonder if anyone is still watching? I start to turn around, but before I can complete the motion, the ground crumbles, falling away beneath me. With the same feeling I had when I was flying, I begin to sink.

Hey, I think I just heard someone call my name.

Where am I? What's going on? Realizing that everything's dark, I open my eyes. It takes a surprising amount of effort to do so. Something is definitely wrong. I'm an early riser, and I can usually train myself to open my eyes, even when I'm nearly paralyzed with exhaustion. I seem to be splayed out on the ground.

The next sign that something isn't right comes when I finally manage to open my eyes. I'm still outside, the sky is dark, some filmy thing seems to be covering me, and some blurred forms that must be people are standing all around me. But I can only notice that stuff for a second, because after being semi-conscious for another second, a searing pain starts to sweep through me. It's too intense for me to focus on where it's coming from.

I think I make some noise in shock, and I shut my eyes tightly in a pathetically vain attempt to try to bring back whatever force field had been protecting me when they were closed before. But it doesn't work, and an odd and horrible sensation takes over me. I drift in and out of consciousness like this for a while.

I'm sure I could remember what happened. I just don't want to think right now. Maybe I'm dying. If that's the case, I wish I'd just get it over with and stop wasting time suffering. And if I'm not dying, why can't someone go get some damn medication so I can pass out until the pain's finally gone?

But it's painfully obvious nobody's going to. Ha ha. Painfully obvious. I feel like laughing, but I can't seem to find the energy to open my mouth. Instead I start shaking uncontrollably, which only seems to make the pain worse, but since it's uncontrollable there's really nothing I can do about it, is there?

"I think he's having a seizure! Oh! Shigure-san! Hatori-san!" A girl's voice. It's high pitch sound makes me wince. Can't she see I've got a headache?

"Coming, Honda-san," says a deep male voice.

"I'm not having a seizure! What's going on, anyway?" I snap. My own voice surprises me, partly because I hadn't planned to say anything, partly because of how faint it sounds. Oh god, someone please tell me what's wrong with me.

I issue a rapid string of obscenities, not caring who's around. All I want are some answers and for everyone to stop talking as though I'm not there.

"Oh good, he's back!" says another male voice, this one a little higher pitched.

That must be Shigure. The girl sounds like Tohru, and the other guy has to be Hatori. Why's he here? Oh yeah, because I just fell off the roof and can't move.

I force my eyes to open quickly and widely. I see the same figures I saw when I first opened them, but more clearly this time. Tohru, Yuki, Shigure, and Hatori.

"Hey, where's Arisa?" I ask, a degree of suspicion in my voice that surprises even me.

"Ah, young love," says Shigure.

"Shut up! It's not like that!" I respond angrily. Well, actually it is, but I can't admit that. And Shigure always acting like he knows everything is one of the most annoying things I've ever been forced by Akito to experience.

"I made her go inside. She shouldn't be under stress now, it could have a negative effect on her grieving process," Turning to Shigure, Hatori adds, "Don't say that Shigure. Especially not... not now."

"What do your mean not now?" I exclaim, confused and angry. Why will no one tell me what's going on?

I sit up suddenly, the blanket on top of me falling to the grassy ground. I look over myself quickly. There are a few small cuts, and as bandage wrapped around one of my arms. I really wish that I could see how bad it was, but it's actually probably better that I don't. I really don't want to go into panic again.

"Kyo, you've just fallen off the roof. You broke your left arm and one of your ribs. I'm just making sure that there's no permanent damage to your spinal cord.

"No, that's not it! There's something more. What aren't you telling me?" I'm not being paranoid. I can tell from his awkwardness that he's hiding something. Hatori's always been a bad liar, and even me, with my limited people skills, can see through him.

"Kyo... you lost." Hatori's voice, even more somber than usual, shatters the mental block that had been keeping me from recalling what had happened and what it meant. An insane rush of every possible feeling, accompanied by vivid, broken images of the battle, starts to run through my head.

"But he's lost lots of fights before. Why is this time such a big deal?" asks a very confused Yuki.

"Tohru-kun, Kyo seems to be fine. Why don't you go inside?" says Shigure politely. Tohru, oblivious as always, doesn't realize that Shigure's trying to get red of her.

"Er, okay. Are you sure you're all right, Kyo-kun?"

"Yeah, I'm just great."

As she goes back into the house, Yuki asks his question again, as though he thinks we didn't hear. "Why is this different?"

"I don't think-"

"It's fine, I'll tell him," I interrupt Shigure

"Tell me what?" asks Yuki. He's looking from face to face, but neither Hatori nor Shigure will meet his gaze. When his eyes return to me, I look straight into them, and I can tell he's a little unnerved.

"Akito and I made a bet. If I could beat you in a fight, I'd get to become one of the zodiac. If I lost, I'd be imprisoned for the rest of my life." It seems strange even to me the lack of emotion in my voice. It's just calm and steady.

He seems shocked by my words, which gives me an odd feeling of pride. Maybe for once I have more self-control than Yuki. "No, no Kyo! There's still time, isn't there? And that wasn't fair; the roof broke in the middle of it! We can have a rematch, can't we?" I've never seen him this frantic, even when we were little. His eyes are wide, his words are stumbling over each other, and he's glancing anxiously from face to face. It serves him right; to finally be feeling a little guilt after all he put me through. I'm actually enjoying watching this.

"No, Yuki," says Shigure quietly, "Today was the last day before Akito's offer expired."

"And I'm afraid that as a physician I cannot allow Kyo to fight. If he goes through any more physical strain before he's healed, then his ribs won't heal properly. I'm taking him immediately to the hospital for an X-ray to check how severe the break in his arm is"

" Yeah, Yuki. It's over," I add. This could be one of the most unusual experiences I've ever had in my life. Shigure, Hatori, and Yuki are all offering me their pity but I'm telling them I don't want or need it. I know my lack of reaction is probably getting on their nerves, but no one will dare say anything now that I've lost it all.

"Come on, Hatori. Can you drive me to the hospital?" I say casually.

I walk towards Hatori's car, he following silently.

You know what they mean when they say it feels like someone's eyes are burning into your back? I don't, I've never felt anything like that. But I do know that right now, Yuki is watching, completely powerless, as I walk away.


	14. Blinking in the Electricity

My Fault

Part 2

Chapter 14

Blinking in the Electricity

…

Sorry about the long hiatus. I would like to thank: watevr, Edakumi, beautifulhate, Kandora-sama, Seed-of-Flame, and Hoppy-Chan. Your reviews make me really happy. Happy Canada day to all Canadians, and belated 4th of July to all Americans. Also, I would like to apologize for the angsty disturbing flashback in the beginning of this chapter. I have a feeling it's not very good, but my fingers basically had a seizure and typed it up against my will. It's experimental, so tell me if it's okay or if it sucks.

…

Arisa's POV

…

I was fourteen, and this was the first time it had escalated to anything that seemed serious, but then again I hadn't seen much yet (but it's not like I had been paying much attention). One of the gang leaders had stolen the other's boyfriend (or something, it's blurred in my mind), and the tension had been mounting for some time.

The sun was staring to set, the clouds were a washed-out neon purple colour, and, judging from all the graffiti markings that had been haphazardly covered up by the residents of the neighborhood, we were in the other gang's territory. It was a pretty bad neighborhood (not as bad as the ones you see on TV, with gunshots piercing the night air and little kids being beaten, or worse. But it was still a scary place to be, even for me who must have seen hundreds of those movies, because this was real.)

We were, what we considered to be at that age, armed to the teeth. The tension in the air was almost tangible, and both gangs were staring each other down. But the thing that stuck out to me most about the moment was how dirty all the surroundings were. I guess the government didn't spend much money on this place because not many people lived there, and those who did were pretty poor, and no tourist in their right mind would go within a mile radius of here.

I don't know who struck first, but soon everyone was fighting. People seemed to have brought whatever weapons they could get there hands on: wooden sticks, metal pipes, some kid had even brought a pair of nunchaku.

Then a girl fell down. I'd never been or seen anybody severely hurt before (but as I said earlier, maybe I just hadn't been looking). I'd always walked away with bruises, scrapes, and, hell, I'd probably even gotten concussions without realizing. But this was different. The girl was just lying there, not moving at all, and when I saw the slick red liquid that was pooling around her, seeping through her jacket, I felt physically ill.

But that wasn't the worst part. Everyone just kept fighting, not taking any notice. I finally understood what people meant when they talked about how desensitized we are today. Maybe it's human nature, but that doesn't stop it from being sick.

No one noticed when I walked away, fighting two simultaneous urges: to sprint insanely fast and to vomit. Questions kept spinning around in my head, which felt like it was bursting (I know I should have been thinking about how lucky I was it wasn't me and I was healthy, but I couldn't help feeling like I was having a heart attack and migraine at the same time). _Why had no one else noticed? And who the fuck brought a knife? That's a weapon people use to kill, we're just kids! I know I always hated being called a kid, it always seemed like I'd been through too much crap to be considered a kid, but none of us are older than fifteen! Is that old enough to be a murderer? _

My usually cool, sarcastic, leave-me-alone attitude had been lost to total panic. I had this irrational fear that whoever had the knife was still out there and could come after the other people in my gang. I think I knew they wouldn't, because the girl who had been wounded was in the other gang, but I was still afraid. We weren't just a bunch of outcast kids who hung out for protection, we were a team, and the closest thing I had to a family. I didn't want to take chances.

I tried to rationalize it into something completely selfish. Things make more sense that way, and everything people do is for selfish reasons anyway (at least that's what I thought then. I hadn't met Kyo or Tohru yet). Doing something because you want to keep your friends is a better reason that because you're a pretentious, self-righteous, moron.

I stopped, I franticly took in my surroundings. Peeling facades of apartment complexes. Thick smoke billowing out of a factory in the distance. No humans in sight. I slid a shaky hand into my pocket, spitting out curses just to feel more confident. I whipped out my dad's cell phone (I had snitched it earlier that day. It's not like he was ever sober enough to use it, and I needed it).

I punched in a number, probably harder than necessary. I spoke as fast as I could, then put the phone back in my pocket and went back to where all the excitement was.

The sun had set by now, and the only light source was the yellow glare of some dingy looking streetlights. The fighting had died down, I saw, and several people were staring wide-eyed at the injured girl, while others were nursing their own wounds. A few continued skirmishing, wielding wooded sticks like swords, but they seemed exhausted (the people, not the sticks).

"I gotta get home, my dad'll kill me if I don't," I say to our leader, in a voice that sounds way too casual. Way to be inconspicuous, Arisa.

"I thought your old man was drunk all the time," she says with a raised eyebrow.

"He'll be coming out of it with a major hangover about now, and'll go berserk if I'm not there with some headache meds for him to pop."

She nods understandingly and dismisses me. This time I don't hold back, running as fast as my legs will carry me. No one will be suspicious of me leaving, judging by how dark it is it's got to be past 10:00.

As the cool-smoky taste of the night air fills my lungs, I can almost forget about my betrayal and pretend this is just a normal run. A few more turns and I'll be out of this neighborhood from hell and near a perfectly respectable port, where if you look you can see the sea sparkle and buildings with dark grass lawns.

I'd almost calmed down when sirens split the night air. It must be the ambulance, I realized. Still, it seemed distant, and I soon relaxed again.

Then a hand grabbed my shoulder from behind. I screamed, and when I turned around and saw whom the hand belonged to, that scream caught in my throat. I couldn't even move, just stood there staring slack-jawed at the uniformed police officer.

Soon I had unfrozen and tried to run off, but he grabbed my hand. "Come with me," he said in a cold and deep voice, like in a movie.

To my surprise he didn't take me to the police station, but to a hospital. In the waiting room I was reunited with the other kids who had been at the fight. We all looked so out of place in this sterile, white walled room, clad in our ripped clothing and surly expressions.

Members of the two gangs had forgotten their differences and had stopped glaring daggers at each other. Instead, everyone was swearing vehemently about what they would do to whoever had ratted on them. I chimed in to keep from being conspicuous.

We were there for over six hours, by the time we left the sun had started to rise. During this long wait, only two things really happened: One: The girl's family came and started yelling at us, saying that their daughter would have been perfectly fine if she hadn't always been hanging around with "our type." I think they seriously overreacted; she wasn't even badly hurt because paramedics had got there so fast. Two: A gangster-y looking woman (I could tell from the kanji on the sleeve of her jacket) probably in her early twenties, came in, and after talking with some doctors or nurses, started crying and screaming her head off. It was chilling to listen to. She seemed to have calmed down, and was walking down the hallway to leave, when she broke down.

Completely.

Broke.

Down. She threw herself at the ground like she wanted to be swallowed up, and shrieked like a demon about how it was the doctor's fault that "he" couldn't have been saved. "They said he ran out of blood, but how could he have ran out, it was everywhere!" she desperately asked no one in particular. I tried not to stare at her but I couldn't help it. I wanted him to be saved just so that she didn't have to fall apart like this in front of a bunch of strangers. Then she got dragged away.

The doctors dealt with us as quickly as possible, looking at us like they would at road kill. The basic diagnosis was that we were all idiots who should go back to school. Probably true, but just to spite them we ignored their advice.

At least they couldn't tell our parents, because that's against the privacy rules. That's about the only favor the law has ever done for me.

…

Why is this room so bright? I crack open an eye to see a kaleidoscope of sunlight, multicolor from hitting all the leaves and plants outside the window. Or something. I'm too tired to think right now.

I shut my eyes again, but my body refuses to sleep any longer. I groan inwardly before sitting up on my futon. I look across the room to see the blinking/glowing/bright red numbers on my alarm clock. 7:10. Weird, I usually sleep much longer than this.

I lay down again, but my attempt to drift away proves completely useless. It's like there's this feeling of dread that keeps yanking me back to consciousness. School! The thought causes me to almost leap out of bed, but before I can reach full-blown-panic, another thought hits me out of nowhere. _It's a P.D. day…_

But now I'm fully awake, whether I like it or not, so I get out of bed. I'm still wearing my school uniform, weird….

I change into a pair of baggy jeans and a plain black polo shirt. I run a brush through my hair and wash my face, and do all that boring stuff nobody really cares about. The whole time I'm wondering what happened yesterday. I keep trying to pull back the memory, but my brain isn't obliging.

Then all at once it comes back to me, silent movie montage style. Kyo and Yuki fighting on the roof, Kyo flying into the air, the roof crumbling beneath his feet, and him hitting the ground. I'm grateful for the lack of sound in these flashbacks, because otherwise I'm positive I would have heard a sickening thud.

My heart is beating wildly, as though in rhythm to a fast-tempo song just out of my hearing range. A stab of annoyance strikes me. This side of me has been showing its face more and more frequently. The part of me that's irrational/overly emotional/useless. Qualities you're supposed to grow out of. Qualities I thought I had grown out of years ago.

So I try to overcome that irrational part of me by doing the only thing that makes sense: I look for Kyo. I guess if I had to put a name to this, I would call it a partial victory. My heart is still beating to an insane drum, but at least I seem to be in control of my thoughts and actions.

I mentally reprimand myself for thinking this stupid nonsense when I should be looking for Kyo.

It doesn't take long to find him. The moment I open the door, I stumble to narrowly avoid stepping on the gently snoring thing right outside it. Instead, I fall down (once again scarcely missing said snoring thing) with a small, half-swallowed yelp.

This causes the orange-haired guy sleeping outside my door to stir. "G' morning," he says groggily.

"What are you doing?" I blurt out, for lack of something intelligent to articulate coming to mind.

"After I got back from the hospital, it was too late at night- early in the morning, whatever- to go to bed. I was waiting outside your door for you to wake up so I could talk to you, I didn't think I'd be able to fall asleep anyway. I guess I disproved that theory." He smiles warmly, but my eyes find themselves locked on the cast on his arm.

As if reading my mind, or maybe just my face, Kyo says, "This?" lifts his left, injured arm, and continues, " that fall broke my arm in two places, but the doctors say I'll heal." He sounds proud of his "battle-wound," addressing it almost casually. But I get this weird feeling that he's hiding something. Maybe it's just the tiredness behind his voice, which is almost unnerving now that I think of it. But he mentioned being sleep-deprived, so I'm probably looking for things that aren't there.

Can't you just be happy that he's okay, Arisa?

_Just like you to make a big deal out of nothing, Arisa._

"How was the hospital, anyway?" I ask, trying to bring myself back to the present. No use obsessing over old ghosts.

_Unless those ghosts turn out to be real, alive, and wanting you to come back to them_, says a sudden, cynical thought that floats through my mind.

"More boring than anything. We had to wait forever, then they interrogated me about what happened, then they said about the same thing as Hatori and we left."

"No permanent damage, then?"

"None whatsoever," says Kyo, with a grin that seems slightly forced.

He probably doesn't want to spend a lot of time talking about his injuries. After seeing the way Prince Charming beat him up yesterday, I don't think Kyo would want to have to talk about that much. It looked pretty humiliating.

Man, some families have really dumb traditions.

_You're one to talk, _says the voice in my head again. That reminds me: There's something I have to tell Kyo, and I don't have the time to put it off any longer. The deadline for deciding is coming up rapidly, and I have no idea what to choose. It almost makes me wish I were a kid again, where I never had any choice in these matters.

"Kyo… there's something I have to tell you." I find myself unintentionally looking away from him. I force myself to quit this and look right at him; he's not one for formality anyway.

"Sure, what is it?" he says. I have another urge to look away, this one stronger and harder to overcome. His jewel-like eyes are so… I don't know if there's a word for it. Naïve. So incredibly frighteningly naïve and receptive, almost childlike in some weird way. No idea what's about to come next.

Not that it's anything horrible. Just… inexplicable.

I make myself say it just to get it all over with. What am I, afraid? "My mother called. Said she saw on the news what… what happened. She invited me to go live with her… but she's in Sapporo. Sapporo, Hokkaido."

Kyo nods. I'm unable to quite make out his expression past the sudden blurring as my eyes tear up. To my surprise, Kyo doesn't say anything, but I don't know what I would have wanted him to say anyway. Maybe saying nothing is best, imparting a sort of silent understanding.

I continue. " It's the first time she's called me since she left. I was a little kid when she ditched up- my dad and me. I didn't know if she was still in the country, or even alive. I never knew if she officially divorced Dad. We never filed a missing person report, so I guess he knew she was all right." _Or didn't care if she was. _I'm definitely rambling now, spilling my guts about something that happened so long ago I would have thought I'd gotten over it.

Seriously, I don't know why I'm so sensitive on the topic of my mom. I can hardly remember her. Tall with dark hair, after that my brain draws a blank.

"So I need to know if I should stay or go," I finish. Thankfully, my eyes have cleared up.

"I think you should go," says Kyo suddenly.

"What?" How can he decide so easily?

"Sorry, I know it's not my decision to make," he apologizes awkwardly.

"No, that's fine. I mean, I wouldn't have told you about it if I didn't want your input." What a stupid-ass thing to say! I made it sound like I only talk to him when I want something. I have no clue what I'm trying to say half the time anymore.

Kyo doesn't seem offended, but his voice still has that eerie zapped-out quality to it. "I just think you should go meet her. Since she called you maybe she feels bad about walking out. "

It seems logical, but still… "It's just that… she's not…"

"Not what?"

"She's not Kyoko." I have no clue where that came from, but it is true. But Kyo never knew Kyoko, so my comparison would have no meaning to him.

'You're right." His answer takes me by total surprise. For a brief moment, I consider a bizarre notion. _He knew Kyoko. _I quickly brush my paranoia off and Kyo continues as though he never paused. "But can you please give her a chance? You can always move back if you don't like it, and we can keep in touch. This is the age of communication! At least…" a lengthy pause makes me wonder if he's going to continue, "give her a chance to apologize for all the crap she put you through."

It's like it suddenly dawns on me for the first time who I've been talking to, and how selfish I've been. His mom never apologized, or even said goodbye to him. Or is it he that wanted to ask for forgiveness of her and never got a chance?

"I'll miss you," I say, overcome with a sensation like I've swallowed my tongue.

"Miss you too," he says.

I want to hug him, but once again I find myself powerless against the curse. We kind of half-hold on to each other.

…

The rest of the day goes by quickly and unremarkably, ironic since it's the last full day I'll get to spend with Kyo… well, before I leave. The only things that seem unusual about the day is that Yuki seems a bit nicer and more awkward than usual around Kyo, and Shigure didn't act hyper and immature.

Strange? Maybe. Memorable? No.

Thanks to Kyo I now have an answer, I know what to do. But it doesn't seem as fulfilling, or as clear as I would have thought.

I realize I've been searching for an epiphany, not an answer, all this time.


	15. Mechanical Wings

My Fault

Part 3

Chapter 15

Mechanical Wings

-.-.-.-

Sorry it took so long to post this. This chapter is told partially by Kureno, so I'm not sure how in character it is. Might be kind of strange. Also, is it just me, or does it have too many words that end in the "ly" suffix? It contains spoilers, just so you know. It's also way longer than I thought it would be. I would like to thank cajun-beauty, Seed-of-Flame, Hoppy-Chan, and chocolateriku.

-.-.-.-

Arisa:

-.-.-.-

"Why do you cry so much? It's weird."

_-.-.-.-_

When I woke up this morning I couldn't seem to move, even though my eyes were open and I was conscious. It wasn't a dream, more like a trance. After a while (I seemed to have no sense of time in this state) the words "Sleep paralysis" floated through my head. No, sleep paralysis is not permanent or dangerous. It's that weird state you're in when you know you're awake but can't move. It's allegedly caused by ghosts.

I don't know if I believe that or not. I'm not an extremely superstitious person, but after I met Hana, I had to admit there are powers I don't understand. I also know a ton of urban legends, because, when I used to skip school all the time, we, my gang friends and I, would tell stories to try and freak each other out. Hey, we had a lot of time to kill, and it's not like we spent every second pummeling each other in violent gang wars.

Back to the topic of sleep paralysis. It was pretty clearly what I had, so I couldn't really do anything but lie there and think until I came out of it. Even thinking wasn't easy, my thoughts were sluggish, like they were drifting through molasses, and they were completely disjointed.

I guess that somewhere along the line I made the connection between sleep paralysis and ghosts, and ghosts and graves. That gave me the idea to visit my father's grave before leaving later in the day.

There was an abrupt feeling like a weight being lifted off my chest and limbs, and I could suddenly move again. My brain seemed to be functioning at normal speed too.

When I went to get breakfast, everyone else was already up, but it's Sunday so it didn't matter that I had slept in. I said something in the way of "'Morning," and helped myself to what Tohru had made for us this morning: A noodle soup with egg sliced on top.

"It's your last day here, isn't it Uotani-kun?" said Shigure conversationally, when we were all sitting around the table. I nodded, not really feeling like chatting with him. He'd been acting really weird for the last few days, cheery but not as carefree as normally. I haven't known him that long, but I always thought of him as the type that didn't care who he annoyed as long as he had fun. He'd been way too concerned about other people lately.

Then again, I've been known to make a big deal out of nothing. Besides, he was the one putting a roof over my head, so I couldn't afford to be rude to him.

"We'll miss you very much Uo-chan! It's been nice having you stay with us," said Tohru, bowing her head slightly. I'd told everyone yesterday evening that I was leaving, except for Kyo who already knew, of course.

"Hey, what are you thanking me for?" I said, laughing a bit. If I didn't know her so well, I'd think there was something seriously creepy about that kid, always being so polite. Since I know her, I realize that she's just really weird, but in a good way.

Then I remember the way I yelled at her a while ago, for no reason at all. _She can't have just forgotten about that already. And knowing how she is, she's probably still feeling guilty about it. _

"Anyway, thanks for all the meals… and stuff…" The words fell dispiritedly out of my mouth, sounding completely wrong. I was trying to sound unperturbed, not depressed. "Thank you, too, Sohmas, for letting me stay here" I added, sounding more enthusiastic this time.

Kyo mumbled something and Yuki snored into his noodles. Typical.

"It's no problem, Uotani-kun. So, do you have anything planned for today?" asked Shigure politely. Not typical.

"I was actually thinking of going to my father's grave," I said.

"Oh, that sounds like a good idea. Were you planning on going alone?"

I hadn't thought about that. "Unless anyone wants to come with, I guess. You guys?"

Kyo mumbles something unintelligible. Then he swallows his noodles and tries again. " I'll come." Then he added awkwardly, "If that's all right with you, and everything."

"She just invited you, of course it's okay," said Yuki irritably.

"Hey, I was just trying to be polite!" defended Kyo. I was almost relieved to see them both arguing as usual, but something about their interactions seemed oddly forced.

"Hey Prince. You wanna come too?" I asked.

"I would be honored, Uotani-san," said Yuki respectfully.

_This guy's politeness really weirds me out, _I thought. _It somehow seems different than Tohru's… less real. Who are you really, Prince?_

"Anyone else want to come?" I queried.

"That would be wonderful, Uo-chan!" exclaimed Tohru, smiling widely.

"I would love to, but I have to work on my manuscript. If I don't finish this, Mitchan will have my head!" sighed Shigure.

"Although one wonders what she would want with the head of a writer who can't even meet his _extended _deadlines," muttered Yuki under his breath.

I was actually grateful that the writer decided not to come along. I can't quite put my finger on in, but I got this feeling that he would have ruined the moment.

We all walked down to the cemetery together as soon as we had all finished eating and bathed. It wasn't far, and it was nice to get out of the house. It was a strange day, both bright with sunlight and clouded with mist. We live- I lived- in a big city, so the unusually pure air around Sohma house was a pleasant attribute of the area.

Yuki and Tohru talked the whole way there. They invited me to join them, asking me questions to try and get me involved in the conversation, but I gave short answers until they just gave up. Kyo basically kept to himself.

When we finally got to the cemetery, I searched for a few moments before finding my dad's grave. I guess it sounds bad, that I hadn't been to his shrine before. But it's not like there was a funeral ceremony, and this isn't even a family cemetery. From the look of it, this was the cheapest thing they could do for him.

You might think I'm an awful person for thinking about money at a time like that. But really, I hardly ever saw the man, and all I really ever knew about him was that we had no money because he spent it all on alcohol.

It's so strange; you can live with a person for so long, yet know nothing about them.

I wandered off, without realizing at first, but then I just gave in and walked away. I didn't go far. I didn't even leave the cemetery. I just walked up a short grassy hill, as though I was drawn to it by an invisible force.

As I stood on top of it, I could see the entire cemetery. Emerald grass, white fog, black and white shrines with red flowers and other gifts placed by them. I could perceive a few figures moving about, but couldn't make out enough detail to tell who they were.

"Hey," said a voice from behind me. I was too daydream-y to feel surprised, so I turned around calmly, bringing me face-to-face with Kyo.

"Hi, what are you doing here?"

"Followed you."

"Look, you don't have to worry. I'm not crying or anything. I just came here to think."

"I know. Me too," he said softly. We both looked at the scene below us, and I could tell he felt the same sense of amazement I felt there. It's an enlightening, almost godlike feeling to just look down at the rest of the world, not interfering. Even though I was in a cemetery, it didn't feel morbid at all.

Kyo's hand brushed mine, and I entwined my fingers in his. I know it was completely the wrong place and time, and utterly disrespectful. But it felt right.

"I'll miss you, ya know?" I said.

"Yeah. I don't know what I'm gonna do without you."

"Promise to keep in touch?"

"I'll call you as much as I can." I got the feeling he was going to add something, but then a sudden thunderclap ripped through the air, almost simultaneously with a burst of lightning. The sky darkened, clouds seeming to appear out of nowhere, but I'd been in a daze for a while so who knows how long they had been there.

"That lightning sounded close, come on," urged Kyo, letting go of my hand and running off towards Yuki and Tohru's direction. He looked behind him to make sure I was following, and I was, matching his pace. The rain started to plummet down in fat drops, instantly soaking us. Kyo's hair was plastered to his forehead, and his clothes clung droopily to his body. I probably didn't look much better.

Kyo slowed down suddenly. "Shit. If this weather keeps up and I can't get inside fast, I'll transform," he said, obviously irritated, breathing hard.

"Hey! Tohru and Yuki!" I called, seeing them not far away.

They looked up at us. Without needing to say anything, we all knew to start running back to Shigure's house.

"Where… were… you?" asked Tohru between gasps of air as we sprinted back. The short distance between the cemetery and house suddenly seemed immense.

"Kyo and I… just… went to… take a walk," I reply.

"Oh."

"Speaking of Kyo," said Yuki. We both looked over to him to see that he had stopped running.

"I can't keep up this pace," said Kyo, He was stooped over slightly, one hand on his forehead, the other holding onto the backboard of a bench for support.

"You should sit down, we'll walk back after you feel better," I told him.

"Too late," he gasped, and a sudden puff of smoke surrounded his body. When it cleared, a small, bright-orange cat stood in his place.

You cannot possibly understand how bizarre it is to see a kitten cuss unless you've witnessed it.

Tohru scooped up his clothes without anyone needing to ask her. "Oh dear," she said. "Are you okay, Kyo-kun?"

"Absolutely wonderful, aside from being a cat."

"I'd better carry you back," I said.

"I can walk, I'm fine," insisted Kyo. He held his injured arm- er, paw- in the air and stood on three legs.

"Yeah, but you'll transform is somebody doesn't hold you. Do you really want to have to explain to someone why you're standing stark naked in their front yard?" I inquire.

Somehow, the cat managed to blush furiously red beneath his orange fur.

When we finally got back to the house, Shigure was waiting at the door with towels. He handed a few to each of us, but we still manage to get the floor sopping wet. "Oh well, I was going to wash it anyway," sighed Shigure. "All of you go to your rooms and change."

"I can't believe he's finally taking the role of the responsible adult," I whispered to Kyo, still in cat-form and in my arms.

"No kidding. It's creepy."

"You read my mind."

He laughed and sprung out of my arms, running off towards his room.

When I got to my room, I was completely stunned by what I saw. All my stuff was gone, except for a few pieces of clothing that lay neatly folded on the dresser. I unfolded them to find that it was one of my more formal outfits, a long skirt with a colorful pattern and a white button-down shirt. I changed out of my sopping wet clothes and into it. My hair was all wet and messy, and since my brush wasn't there I fixed it as much as I could by running my fingers through it for a few seconds.

As soon as I looked presentable again, I ran out into the hall. "Shigure Sohma! Did you take my stuff?" I accused.

"Yes. It's all packed up over there," he responded, gesturing to a suitcase by the door.

"Er… thanks!" I said, feeling grateful but at the same time a bit bothered that he was going through my underwear and stuff while I was away.

"You're welcome. You should really pack in advance next time," he said.

"I will. I guess I was just so excited I forgot. Thanks," I said, feeling like an idiot.

"Your plane leaves soon. I organized for someone to drive you to the airport."

"Huh?" I exclaimed. "But, I planned to take the bus!"

"If you do, you'll be late. The next bus doesn't leave until 5:00, and takes a two hour route not counting stops. The plane leaves at 7:30, plus you have to go through customs. If you go with whom I planned, you can get there in an hour. Plus, I already called her, and she'll be here in ten minutes."

I felt a bit annoyed that he had planned all this out without my knowledge, but it seemed wrong to complain about it considering how much work he did. So I went with a neutral comment. "Wow, you really planned this out."

"Hey! Shigure, what's the big idea with hiding all my clothes except this?" interrupted a voice. Shigure and I both turned to see Kyo, wearing a three-button suit. "I look like a freak!"

"Hey, that's my suit," said Shigure, feigning to take offence at the comment. "And I didn't hide your clothes, I just put them away in a different place that usual."

"Right. Under Yuki's bed certainly is "a different place than usual,"" grumbled Kyo.

"You look nice," I said.

"Thanks," replied Kyo.

"Did you even get any writing done while we were away?" asked Yuki, stepping into the room, also dressed formally.

"Nope," said Shigure. "Here." He handed me a black umbrella with a polished wood handle. "She'll meet you by the bus stop, in a black car."

"Okay," I said. _This seems like something out of a clichéd spy movie! _I thought.

I knew I had to go as soon as possible, so I had to say my farewells to everyone. "Hey, I'm sorry about a few days ago," I whispered to Tohru as I embraced her, knowing that this might be my last chance to apologize to her in person. She looked puzzled. "You know, when I yelled at you."

"Huh? Oh, I'm not upset about that! I know you must have had a lot on your mind, and you didn't want to have to talk to me, but it's really considerate of you to apologize!"

"Stop making excuses for me. I acted like a jerk."

"Um… ah…"

I laughed. "Chill out!" I told her.

I shook hands for Kyo and even though I really wanted to tell him that I loved him or something, I didn't. I knew that we're not supposed to reveal our relationship to anyone, and I wasn't romantic enough to say something only he'd get. So I just said, "Keep in touch. I'll miss you, Orangey-kun! You too Prince, Writer!" They wished me luck, and I left.

It was still raining outside, but not as hard as before. I opened the umbrella while I was still sheltered by the roof, then walked to the bus stop. Sure enough, already there was a black car. A beautiful young woman with long dark hair and extremely pale skin stuck her head out the window. "Hurry up, I'm parked illegally!" she shouted, popping the trunk. I put my suitcase in it, but couldn't seem to fold the umbrella to fit. "Just come on!" I ran up the front of the car, and I saw that she had already opened the passenger door. I entered but still was unable to quite fold the umbrella. "Give me that," she snapped, grabbing it from me and easily collapsing it to its compressed size. She took it from me and put it beside her.

_Wow, she sure is uptight, _I thought. We drove to the airport in silence, because she didn't seem to talk much and I was just fine with that. The hour to get to the airport seemed to pass absurdly quickly. When we got there, she handed me the umbrella and basically told me to get the hell out of her car.

I went through customs, which was boring, but thankfully I was in too much of a daze to notice how long it took. Then I got on the plane. This is the first time I've ever been on a plane, and as soon as take-off ended and I stopped feeling like I was about to die, it got pretty boring. I'm grateful the flight is relatively short.

Which brings us to where I am now: That very plane. Everything's white except for the blue carpeting, and there're many rows, each with three seats in them. I'm sitting by the window, which gives me a steady view of whiteness as we fly through a cloud.

"Attention passengers. We will be landing shortly," says a crackly voice over the intercom.

I can feel the plane descending.

Sinking.

-.-.-.-

Kureno:

"How could this happen?" What does it matter how? It happened! I'm free. A part of me wanted to shout in joy, dance around, and escape as far away from the Sohmas and my cursed past as possible. Another part of me, the dominant one it seemed, warned me that this wasn't possible. This must be a dream, or it is merely temporary, it told me.

"You're going to leave me, aren't you? Now that nothing's holding you back. How dare you? You're abandoning me! How dare you?" Akito. She had been staring down at the ground, her hair covering her eyes, making her expression indiscernible, when she suddenly looked up at me as she said those last three words, shooting me a wide-eyed, accusing stare that seemed to pierce right through me. Her dark eyes seemed to be shimmering, and the thought struck me that it resembled the sea at night. I was caught completely off guard by the sudden display of emotion. 

"_No, Akito-sama. I am not leaving you. I will always be loyal to you." _

"_Promise?"_

"_I promise, Akito-sama."_

_Suddenly, the child who had been crying and yelling at me was gone. Instead, standing before me was Akito, as I had always known her. "Good, you know your place," she said, smiling frostily. Then once again she lost her indifferent manner, wrapped her arms around me, and cried. _

_From that moment on, I was certain I could never leave her side. The fact that I was the only one she had ever shown any weakness, any emotion besides rage and disgust to, meant that I was indebted to her. She needed me. What higher honor is there than to be needed by the Jade Emperor?_

-.-.-.

A long time ago, she thought I'd leave her. She seemed so angry, but I could tell it was just to cover up the fear and hurt. I know I shouldn't admit this, but it made me feel the happiest I have ever been to see her like that. I suppose I felt some pride in knowing that I, Kureno Sohma, had had such an effect on the head of the Sohma family.

Perhaps it was out of guilt for these feelings, or maybe just because I was taught to always be utterly loyal to the Jade Emperor that I promised her right there that I would never abandon her.

And so I have stayed by her side all these years.

A long time ago, she thought I'd leave her.

I know she still thinks that.

I know the other Sohmas talk about me. They say I am broken, that I have lost all independence. They are probably correct in thinking this. But it is my choice to obey Akito, no matter what. It is my choice to dedicate my life to her. And it is my choice to try to save her, even if it means I forever give up my freedom.

I know I cannot love her. I probably always knew this, but it was only recently that I was forced to admit this to myself. When I met Arisa, I knew there was something more out there in the world. I knew I could feel infinitely more alive that I am with Akito, as a will-less puppet.

But as I said, this is the life I choose. And even if I don't have everything I want, at least I know that I am loyal. If I cannot offer Akito my love, at least I can offer her my devotion. And I will not hurt her by wanting more. Maybe this really is love, willingness to sacrifice everything for another person. Perhaps the rest is just wishful thinking.

They've done surveys that link time spent commuting to unhappiness. I can see why that it. Sitting in this car, driving with Akito beside me, it seems I can't help but think about unpleasant things I normally try to keep out of my mind.

"Kureno, are we almost there?" she inquires edgily.

"Yes."

I am not at all eager to get to Shigure's house. Going to pick up Kyo is bad enough, but I am more afraid for Arisa's sake. I am not in love with her and she is not in love with me, but I still care about her safety. From what Akito has said I know that Kyo is being imprisoned because of his involvement with a girl.

And I know that girl is Arisa because I saw the two of them together. They were holding hands, very boldly and disrespectfully. I know I should have felt something when I saw them together. Envy that I would never get to hold someone's hand like that. Anger that they were so obvious with their affections. Fear that they would get caught. Happiness that she had found someone.

But I didn't feel any of those things. I suppose this supports the theory that I am simply broken, like a child's plaything that becomes too worn out to be of much use anymore.

But I have no right to be so self-pitying. Akito would not want me to think like this. I suppose she is as much a source of strength as she is a drain to me. By serving and obeying her, I am given a purpose, and it is that purpose that keeps me going. I would likely not survive if I were to be completely independent, with no sense of direction in my existence. Like this, I am as content as I will ever be.

I pull up the car next to Shigure's house, the wheels displacing some gravel with a clinking sound. I get out of the car, breathing in the crisp evening air. There are a few drops of water clinging to unbelievably vibrantly green blades of grass. I walk around to the other side of the car and open the door for Akito. She steps out grandly and marches quickly towards the door to the house. I'm struck by the concern that she could injure herself if she doesn't calm down.

"Be careful, Akito-sama," I caution her. The moment the words leave my mouth, I know I am out of line to say them, no matter how politely. She hates showing any weakness to another person.

"I _am _being careful, Kureno," she snaps irritably. She speeds up her pace slightly, just to spite me. I sigh internally. There is no use giving her advice. Her whole life has been constructed on the basis of establishing Ren incorrect, so I suppose that is why she will even risk her own health to prove others wrong.

Akito presses an abnormally thin index finger to the doorbell, causing a bing-bong noise that sounds oddly ominous to me. Seconds later, Shigure answers the door.

"Come in, please, Akito-sama. Kureno," he ushers. There is a false cheeriness about him that instantly vanishes the moment we are inside. He shows us to where Honda-kun, Yuki, and Kyo are already congregated. Everyone is seated with somber expressions on their faces. Kyo looks uncomfortable, like he usually does when forced to sit still. I also notice a cast on one of his arms. A look of terror crosses Yuki's face the moment his eyes land on Akito. Honda-kun looks as wide-eyed as ever. I can see that Shigure made them all dress up for the occasion.

" What are _you _doing here, girl?" Akito sneers at Tohru. "Last I heard, you weren't a Sohma."

"I, er, I thought it was important that I-"

"You thought you were good enough to interfere in our business? I hate condescending people like you. Keep your nose out of things you know nothing about."

Tohru seems physically hurt by Akito's words. She opens her mouth as though to say something, but no words come out.

Akito's fists are clenched, and from the look of it her fingernails are probably biting into her palms. I know she is about to continue her verbal attack on Honda-kun. I say nothing. It's not out of selfishness that I keep silent; it is simply that I know my objections would do no good for the situation.

"Well, let's get down to business," says Shigure, in an obvious attempt to change the topic.

"Yes. Let's," says Akito, her voice and expression cold, shooting Honda-kun one last icy glare before taking her seat.

The fear etched into Yuki's youthful features intensifies, and I can tell it is taking every bit of his self-restraint to keep from fleeing the room.

"I believe we all know why I am here," says Akito. Her voice has a strange beauty to it, in its stark confidence. "I have come to take what belongs to me."

Her statement causes everyone some visible discomfort, and Kyo is especially obviously unnerved by it. "I'll never belong to you," he mutters, voice barely audible.

Nevertheless, Akito's ears prick up at his words. "What was that?" she asks, her voice deadly soft.

"Nothing I'm sure, Akito-sama" says Shigure, with an admonitory smile aimed at Kyo.

"Yes, nothing. Right, Kyo?" questions Akito, turning to the boy.

"No. No, it was something. Wanna know what I said?" He stands up, grinning defiantly. "I said "I'll never belong to you," Akito."

Akito's look of disbelief instantly turns to an expression of pure fury. "You think you can talk to me like that?" she exclaims incredulously. She instinctively reaches a hand out, closing her fingers around a dinner plate. She picks it up and, with surprising strength, hurls it across the room. Kyo doesn't have a chance to react, and the plate grazes his cheek before hitting a wall and shattering into tiny porcelain fragments.

Shigure winces, and I am not sure it is entirely due to the destruction of his property. "Akito-sama, let's calm down. It is not Kyo's fault he is a fool."

"Aside from the fool part, I agree with Shigure. Calm down, Akito. Besides, just because you can hurt me doesn't mean you own me," says Kyo. His voice is calm, but from the look on his face it seems like he is about to lose all control.

It suddenly occurs to me that he referred to Akito without any suffix. _It's like he's giving up and this is his last attempt at reprisal, _I realize.

"How dare you be so disrespectful? Shut up!" Akito screeches, her voice taking on an animalistic quality. Her unnaturally widened eyes further enhance this effect.

Then a calm comes over her, transforming her features back to normal. It's a very bizarre thing to behold her abrupt mood swings. I am used to it now, but I see Yuki, Kyo, and Honda-kun all shudder as it occurs. "It is no matter, I suppose." She begins to pace the house as she speaks, her voice cooled to usual volume and tone. "Soon you will be put in your place."

Kyo says nothing, but attempts to look rebellious. This backfires and he just looks ill.

Akito turns to Shigure. "So, if no one has any objections, I will be taking my cat and leaving."

Shigure nods, his face unreadable. Honda-kun is obviously about to protest, but seems too nervous to string two words together. Instead she turns anxiously from face to face, as though she is looking for inspiration.

"You can't do this!" interrupts a voice. I am genuinely surprised when I recognize it as Yuki's. It dawns on me that he has said nothing since Akito and I arrived up until now.

"Why not, Yuki?" sighs Akito, sounding more amused than angry.

"Stay out of this," Kyo growls, but Yuki ignores him.

"It wasn't a fair fight. Kyo and I were on the roof, and it broke in the middle of our competition. That's how he broke his arm. Shouldn't he be allowed to be free until his arm heals and we can have a rematch?" Yuki is kind of half-standing, with his chair pushed back and his palms pressed flat on the table. His face seems even paler than usual, and I get the impression that he would collapse if he were not supporting himself with the table.

"Well, Yuki. I must say, this is very uncharacteristic of you. But a bet is a bet. It's a shame that the two of you are to be separated just as you have begun to reconcile your differences. What happened to alter your relationship?" Akito's curiosity seems authentic.

"It's just that I don't think this is fair," says Yuki.

Akito actually guffaws upon hearing this. "Yuki. The things that matter most in life are never fair. Just be glad they work in your favor. Don't be so arrogant as to question fate, or I may have to put you in your place."

An odd haunted expression comes on to Yuki's face. His eyes become wide and blank, and his mouth is a thin line. He seems to be watching something terrible that no one else in the room can see.

"Do you remember your place, Yuki?" asks Akito. He nods slowly, distantly. "That's a good boy," she says, lips warping into a spiteful smile.

She reaches out a hand, placing it possessively on his shoulder. It appears that he is physically fighting the urge to draw back.

"Please, Akito-sama! Please leave him alone," begs Honda-kun.

Silence fills the room. It seems that no one even dares to breathe. All eyes land on Honda-kun.

Her interruption perplexes me. Even if she didn't understand the depths of Sohma family politics, she should have been able to tell from the tension in the air that no good could come of interfering.

I'm not worried for the girl's safety. If Akito launches herself at her, I can easily hold her back. But if this meeting goes badly, I am the one who is going to have to put up with Akito's anger for the upcoming days. When she becomes angry, she makes herself sick and miserable. I am the one who has to take care of her, and I do not want to have to do extra work. Besides, I feel guilty whenever she becomes ill under my care.

So, my reasons for feeling grateful when Akito says "I told you before, stay out of this," and nothing more, are entirely selfish.

"What is it, Akito-san?" asks Shigure. The apparent nonsequiter catches me by surprise, until I notice something Shigure must have detected before me: Akito's bemused expression.

"I just remembered something. Where is the _girl_ Kyo believed himself to be _in love_ with?" Akito seems to spit some of her words, as though they have a foul taste in her mouth.

"She is not here," declares Shigure simply.

"Well, then get her for me," articulates Akito impatiently.

"Er, I am afraid that will be difficult."

"What now?"

"She is currently on the flight to Hokkaido. In fact…" Shigure looks at his watch, seemingly deliberately tediously. "She should be landing right about now."

"You told her." It's a statement, not a question.

"No, Akito-san. I had nothing to do with it. Her mother called and asked her to visit." He sounds earnest, but it's hard to tell with Shigure. He has already betrayed Akito's trust several times, and in each instance, I was the one left to pick up the pieces. I am an expert on the damage this man has caused.

"I do not believe you, but I will allow you the benefit of the doubt as I have in prior instances. It seems I do not learn much from past mistakes. In any case, I got what I came for, which is more than I expected from you, Shigure. I'm surprised you actually went through with it."

"So am I." For a brief moment I am certain he says this, but then I realize it is doubtlessly just my imagination.

"Kureno, we're going," says Akito. "Come, Kyo," she calls possessively, mockingly.

"Yeah," says the boy. He is walking towards Akito and I when without warning he breaks out into a sprint towards the door. I overcome my initial hesitation to chase after him.

He makes it outside only a few steps ahead of me. It's now past nightfall, and the only light comes from the moon, stars, and cast out of the windows of Shigure's house in an orange glow. The grass crunches slightly beneath my shoes, meant for indoors. Kyo has an easier time running than me, as though he runs in slippers all the time. Since he is younger and more athletic than me, I am fairly sure it is not due to exhaustion that he is breathing hard, like oxygen is going out of style, when I am not fatigued at all.

In fact, it feels invigorating to be outside, without Akito ordering me around. Just running. I know it sounds immature when I put it into words, but it seems like such a tempting idea to just keep running on and on and on, away from my life.

But this desire ends abruptly when I place a hand firmly on Kyo's shoulder. He turns around, looking directly into my eyes with his. It seems like there is a powerful emotion in them, but I cannot quite tell what it is.

Akito says something and we get into the car. I drive, as always. My eyes are on the road, but my mind seems unable to focus. A single thought keeps bombarding the mental walls I put up long ago. I know Kyo could easily have outrun me.

He wasn't even trying to escape.


	16. Static Anonymity

My Fault

Part 3

Chapter 16

Static Anonymity

…

Hey you guys, I'm really sorry it took me so long to update. School's been really busy, they're trying to teach us two grades at once so it takes up a lot of time. I think I'll be able to balance writing and studying now though. I do not own the name of this chapter, it is taken from the name of an EP by the band Metric. I just thought it fit in really well with this chapter, and I don't think taking two words from an EP name count as copying something not in the public domain**. I would like to thank cajun-beauty, Hoppy-Chan, and Cortamone for their reviews on the last chapter.** As of this chapter, **My Fault** is officially 50,000 words long. Yay! It also means that I have submitted a total of 100,000 words to fanfiction dot net. So yeah, sorry if it seems like I'm bragging, but I'm really proud of this.

.-.-.-.-.-

**Hanajima:**

"Ow!" I exclaim as a sudden influx of energy shocks me. The sensation fades instantly, but is powerful enough to have my thoughts spinning suddenly in all directions- or more accurately, out of control in one direction, that being: worst case scenarios.

"Saki? Are you alright?" my mother asks me.

My family and I were – and still are – in the middle of dinner when I got the shock. Mother, Father, Obaba, Megumi, and I are all here, sitting around the table. Obaba and Megumi look concerned at my outburst, and my parents appear both anxious and surprised. I don't even need to reach out with my mind to catch hold of the waves of disquiet they are radiating. I try to shut these out, but it's harder to do when the waves belong to someone I'm close to- literally and figuratively. I know it's normal for parents to worry about their children, but I often wish I didn't have to be so aware of these worries. It always feels like I am intruding on their personal feelings, even when said feelings are flying freely throughout the room.

"Yes, I am fine. It's just…" I search for the right word. Not finding it, I conclude, "something happened."

"What- what do you mean?" she asks, but I know she means _Something bad? _

But once again I cannot find the way to put it into words. A feeling of hopelessness, separation, and broken promises, coming from far away, from someone I know. And there's chaos pulsing throughout the emotional energy, a deep dark chaos. It's as though someone is experiencing a private cataclysm within his or her thoughts. And I am afraid, because there is no predicting what actions a person in such a state might execute. "I don't know," I say simply, not wanting to frighten her. She already feels uneasy and guilty about my powers, though I do not quite know why. But she is a person very concerned about the wellbeing of others, and since I know nothing for certain I do not want to add to her concerns unnecessarily.

I suppose that was a partial lie to myself. I know that it involves one of the chaotic people I know. I know only two people who have that particular… flavor, for lack of a better descriptor, of chaos. Those people are the Sohma cousins, and are currently sharing a house with my friends. My only real friends could be in danger, and I know that if harm comes to them, I will never be able to live with myself.

"Mother? Is it alright if I go visit my friend, Tohru Honda?" I ask. Thankfully, I am not a person who conveys a great deal of emotion by means of my voice, or she would know I am terrified.

She looks at me, surprised. "Now, you mean?"

It is getting dark outside, and the weather is poor. It has stopped raining, but there are heavy winds and puddles of mud all over the roads and pathways. My family and I had been planning to stay inside and watch the new Mogeta movie Megumi rented. He has been very excited about it, talking about it often. (He's not one to talk much, so by his standards "talking about it often" means he mentioned it once or twice.) I hate to disappoint Megumi by missing this, but I cannot ignore the obligation I have to Tohru and Arisa. They were there for me when I needed it most, and I have to be there for them, even if there is just a chance they are in danger.

"Yes," I say, "now."

"I suppose I don't mind if you go, just as long as you're back soon as possible. But do you think it will be alright to show up uninvited?"

"I think so. It's important."

She sighs. "Well, if it's important. But be careful, Saki. It's getting dark quickly."

My father chimes in. "Do you want us to come pick you up?"

"No, I will be fine. It is not far, and I will be sure to be careful."

"Okay. Come to think of it, I don't know where she's living now anyway."

"Tohru Honda is staying with some close friends,' I say, as it seems like the most concise and appropriate answer.

"Well, don't let us keep you. You said so yourself it's important, so good luck and come home safely," he says.

'Thank you, both of you. I am truly grateful."

I walk over to the door and take a long black hooded jacket and a pair of boots out of the closet. I pull the jacket on over my long sleeved shirt, and I quickly do up my zip-up boots, because I do not want to take the time to tie laces.

The instant I step out of doors, I am assaulted by the shrill keening of a frigid wind, and this wind causes my jacket to billow out behind me like a cape. I put up the hood, and some black lace falls in front of my face. I find it comfortingly familiar.

I walk at a fast pace, knowing I'll be unable to run the distance without tiring myself out and ultimately taking more time to reach my destination. For what is probably the first time since middle school, I wish I was better at running.

I continue walking, trying to increase my speed gradually with each step, focus on small goals – to pass that flower, that tree, that bench – and all the other advice I can recall from gym class. But before I know it, I am in a flat out sprint, helpful hints thrown to the wind. I know I have gained a reputation as a rational person, having always played that role when with Tohru or Arisa. But I am all alone now, and I cannot bring myself to be rational when faced with the chance of something bad happening to the only two real friends I have ever had outside of my family. In fact, they are family to me in all ways but blood relation.

I notice a sound behind me. Footsteps, constantly adjusting their speed to match my pace. It's probably just an echo, I tell myself. I don't fear the supernatural, obviously, and I see no reason why a person would be following me. If they were, I'm sure their intentions would be innocent, and if not I would be able to protect myself.

"Saki! Wait. Please,' says a quiet voice from behind me, and I turn around. That voice can only belong to one person… and what would he be doing here?

"Megumi," I state, spotting him a short distance behind me. He shows no sign of being tired, but I know he must be. Like me, he generally does not much see the point of needlessly exhausting oneself just for the sake of it.

He takes a few seconds to walk over to me, and I wait for him. Even when he is standing right in front of me, he doesn't say anything. He just looks at me with his wide dark eyes, and just for a second, I am sure I see an accusing look in them.

"Why are you out here, Megumi? It's late," I say.

"Tohru-kun is my friend too," he says, then, "Saki, why didn't you wait for me?"

I know I can say that I did wait, as soon as he told me to, but I know that's not what he meant. Usually I can tell when he's nearby, not so much because of waves as it is just because he is my brother and one might say it is a bond we have. But this time I hadn't sensed him – or more likely, I probably had sensed him but was not paying enough attention to my surroundings or senses to pick up on it. "I'm sorry Megumi," I sigh. "I suppose I was distracted."

"It has to do with Tohru-kun, right?" he asks.

"Yes, I think so Megumi."

My brother stands silent, and I know he is waiting for me to tell me what "_it" _is. "I noticed a strange wave today. I think it came from the people Tohru is currently living with, so I thought it best that I find out what caused the disturbance." _In the force _I think, but don't say, partly because this isn't the time for jokes, more so because I rather doubt my brother would get the reference.

"I thought it doesn't usually work that way… Don't you usually just intercept waves that are from people in the room? I thought that you mostly just picked up waves now when you're trying to, not spontaneously anymore," he says quietly.

"Yes, that's usually how it works, but not this time. There was something very strange about that wave, and it must have been very intense to reach me so far away." _It must have been unbearably intense to actually be in the room with… whoever that was. _"I wonder what circumstances caused me to sense it, and if there is a reason why I did. So that is what I am going to find out," I finish.

He nods, and we walk on.

.-.-.-.-.-

Tohru 

Uo-chan left, and then Kyo-kun. The house feels terribly empty, even though there are three people still living here, same as when I first came. It just feels… wrong. I try to concentrate on feeling happiness for Uo-chan, that she gets to live with the mom she hasn't seen since she was little, but knowing that Kyo has been forcibly taken away by Akito makes it hard to feel any happiness. I have lost two friends in one day, and none of it feels right at all. Kyo-kun and Uo-chan are separated, and I wish there was a way I could fix that, and I wish I wasn't so powerless in the situation. If I hadn't been so scared, maybe I could have somehow stopped Akito.

I know that Kyo-kun and Uo-chan liked eachother. No one really said it out loud, but it was something everyone knew. They used to argue all the time, but suddenly… they didn't exactly stop, but it wasn't serious anymore, more like they were kidding. They spent a lot of time together, which seemed odd considering how previously it was generally considered unsafe to have them anywhere near each other. It was nice, I felt happy for them. I don't think that without each other either of them would have been able to cope with all the things that have been happening. Knowing that she has been separated from a person who really loved her with all his heart, I find it difficult to be happy for Uo-chan. And even if she comes back, she probably won't be able to see him again.

If only there was some way I could turn off my mind, and just stop thinking. I'm usually an optimist, even if sometimes I have to make a conscious effort not to let myself get depressed. But with circumstances like this, I just can't find something good to focus on. I think Yuki and Shigure will still let me stay here, but it will be so awkward. Will the house always feel this brutally deserted? And high school is ending soon, and I really don't think I should burden them by staying here when it ends. I know Yuki would be too polite to say anything, but I can't help thinking that things will be different between us when we've graduated, and it's like we're officially adults.

Try to think about nothing, Tohru. If you can't think about something good, just stop thinking before you give yourself an attack or a breakdown.

I wish that thought didn't make me even more nervous.

Maybe this house wouldn't seem so vastly empty if not for the silence.

the silence (Yuki stands up with slow deliberateness.)

that is (He glares down at Shigure, who is sitting.)

suddenly (Shigure lifts his head to meet his gaze)

b r o k e n.

Broken by a voice that's quiet, harsh, and full of rage. But oddly welcome, as though we had all been waiting for it all this time (How long is all this time?).

"I can't believe you did this," says Yuki.

"What's bothering you, Yuki?" asks Shigure, his expression cold and challenging.

"He trusted you! Do you know that? He didn't try and run away from here, even when graduation day is coming up soon and he knew what was coming. He didn't think even you could be this inhuman. And neither did I." Yuki is trying desperately to keep his voice even, but the feeling of betrayal show through with devastatingly clarity.

"The imprisonment wasn't my idea," says Shigure calmly. "Akito-sama came up with it all on his own."

Yuki gets a furious but somehow in-control look on his face, as though the next words he speaks are going to determine something bigger than all of us. His face is like a dramatic statue of someone whose next actions caused something amazing to happen, and his only feature that doesn't seem to be carved from stone are his eyes: They are flickering in the light, but the fire in them is colder than ice.

Then his expression is replaced by a look of pure disgust splayed across his elegant soft features, and in a sudden movement that causes his grayish hair to swing around, he turns away wordlessly.

I can see why they call him a prince. He looked like disappointed royalty. He's naturally a person who projects his emotions, even though he's worked for so many years to change that. But he's like the blank side of a piece of paper that's been written on, where in the right lighting the words will show through and I catch a glimpse of the real Yuki. And he's strong, even if he doesn't know it. People are drawn to him because he's a natural leader.

At least, that's the impression I got.

At first I think he's heading up to his room, but then he surprises me by going in the exact opposite direction: Right up to the roof where Kyo always goes – I mean used to go – no, goes. I don't have a chance to see Shigure's reaction because after recovering from my initial shock, I'm following Yuki. I have to run to catch up; he's a good way ahead of me and not slowing up at all. His footsteps are surprisingly loud considering both how light and how quiet he usually is, but like I said, he shows his anger in different ways than most people. And even in storming off, an action that people typically take when upset, he manages to change it into something that seems somehow more meaningful, and not at all typical.

He must have a lot of anger, after all those years of unjust treatment and now this. I would do anything to help him with it, even though I know my motives are probably selfish. It's hard being in a room with a person like him, when I know how intensely compressed his emotions are, and sometimes it is like watching him being burned down from the inside, like a building that it seems will collapse in on itself as soon as another piece of framework turns to ash.

At first I'm not sure he realizes I'm there. He sits down and leans back against his hands, staring intently at the sky. It's night now, and the entire landscape is soaked in indigo ink and the soft cool glow of many stars and a high full moon. Due to light pollution, a sight like this is rare in the big city and has an oddly placating effect, even under the present circumstances. "You followed me," he says, and I'm not quite sure if it's a question or a statement.

"Um, yeah," I say. He doesn't even look at me. "You know… that was really brave, Yuki. You stood up against Akito, even though he's the head of your family. A lot of people wouldn't be able to do that."

Yuki takes a while to answer, and when he does his voice sounds strained like he has been pushed to the limits. "It wasn't brave. I was doing what I had to do, and should have done long ago. Besides, it's not like I succeeded in accomplishing anything. And you… you stood up for me too, even though you didn't have to, and there's no way I deserved it. I'm not like you in that respect, Honda-san. I do things because I have to, or to make myself feel better. I'm not a naturally caring person."

I have no idea why I say the next thing I do. "Don't call me Honda-san."

"Eh?" He looks as surprised as I am at my impulsiveness.

I hastily try to remedy it. "I-it's just… just… we've known each other for so long now… and I just call you Yuki." _When did that start_, Iwonder."It seems… weird… for you to be so polite, but I'm so in- informal."

"All right," he says. "Tohru it is." For the first time in our entire conversation, he turns to face me. Allowing a small smile to cross his lips, he says, "You know, Honda-sa – sorry, Tohru. You surprise me sometimes."

"Ah, er…"

He laughs softly. "Don't worry! It's a good thing."

"I'm sure you can surprise yourself too!" I blurt out.

He looks puzzled.

"Well, you said that you're not a naturally caring person. But how _can _a person be naturally caring, anyway? When we're born, we all only care about ourselves. When we get older and spend time around other people, we learn to understand them, and to want to help them. I truly believe that it is possible to do a selfless thing, even if we're not really sure why. "

"Wow," he says, and I realize how long I'd been talking and feel rather embarrassed. "Thank you for telling me that."

I'm not the slightest bit sure how to respond, because it's impossible to tell if he is actually thankful or just wants me to stop talking.

Like he read my mind, he says, "No, really. That was interesting, and I think I understand better now. I've never met anyone who's had so much faith in others before. It's actually really inspiring."

"Thanks, Yuki."

People look so different in the dark. It highlights features that you otherwise wouldn't notice. Like right now, his eyes are dark and bright at the same time, like the star-studded sky, or one of Kyo's belts that had steel spikes shining against black fabric. Also, he looks older. Not in a way that can be measured in years, but something more important. More… I guess the word is mature.

I dangle my feet over the edge of the roof, and let my eyes wander across the sky, taking in all the details. It should probably make me feel small, but it makes me feel safe instead. I know my mom is watching over me, protecting me. And if I can change things, and do the right thing to help my friends, nothing bad can happen to me. I'm not saying it will be easy, or that I won't get hurt. But I have to do the right thing, because it will be harder and more painful to ignore what has happened.

Yuki 

The strangest thing happened to me the moment I looked up at that sky. My perception of the world, my plans for the future, my ideas about right and wrong… everything should have been in shambles. But instead, everything was suddenly clearer than it had ever been. Kyo was no longer my enemy, Akito was. Kyo may have been violent, angry, and a rival, but above all he was a person, and had I not been so shortsighted I would have realized that long ago. I stared at the sky transfixed, begging it, however irrationally, to tell me more. I must have looked weird to Tohru, just sitting there and not saying anything. We talked for a while, then both of us were silent. I don't know how long we've been here now. The sky's darkened to almost pure black with traces of purple blended in.

There's a sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. If it's Shigure I'll refuse to speak to him, unless he's coming to apologize for standing by while a person was locked up like an abused pet, and to help us get Kyo back. _He may be a baka neko, but he doesn't deserve this_, I think, and the thought is outlandishly comforting.

But it's not Shigure, I find out when a voice behind me speaks. "Hello," says Saki Hanajima. Somehow she even makes that greeting sound creepy. But perhaps it's just because I have no idea why she is here. That irrational calm is still overpowering me, so I don't even have the ability to be startled by her being here, only slightly interested.

'Oh! Hana-chan, Megumi-kun! It's so nice of you to have come," says Tohru.

"Oh, you invited them?" I ask, wondering why Tohru would do such a thing considering the circumstances.

"No, why do you ask, Yuki?" inquires Tohru.

"Never mind." Turning to Hanajima and her brother, I say. "It's nice to see you."

"And I you," answers Hanajima.

"Um, why exactly are you here?" I ask, when it becomes apparent she is not going to answer that without being asked.

"Shigure-san let us in," she says.

"Where is Uotani-kun?" asks her brother.

"She went to visit her mother in Osaka," says Tohru, probably because that sounds better than saying "She moved without telling you."

"I see," says Hanajima sadly. "She did not tell me."

"It was kind of last minute," I say quickly.

"Oh. Where is the other Sohma-kun?" she asks.

Tohru looks at me frantically. "It's all right," I say. "You can tell her."

"Um, how much can I say, Yuki?" she asks.

Hanajima doesn't seem like the type to gossip, and her brother seems to be similar to her. Plus, I'm feeling reckless and completely sick of the Sohma cloak-and-dagger routine, so I say, "Everything you think is important."

"_Everything_ everything?" she asks nervously.

"Yeah."

"Um. You're sure?"

"Of course. We'll need as much help as possible to come up with a plan and put it into action." Noticing the surprised expression on Tohru's face, I say, "What, you didn't expect me to just forget about him and do nothing, did you?"

She smiles, and it's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. "No, Yuki. I didn't."

At this point we both realize we'd been having a conversation amongst ourselves while completely ignoring our, albeit uninvited, guests. Turning to them, Tohru begins. "This may sound sort of…"

"Unbelievable," I supply when she pauses.

"Yes, unbelievable. But even though it sounds strange, every words of it is true." Tohru and I both look at each other as we realize simultaneously that we are talking to a girl who can read and transmit poison waves and a young boy who is able to put curses on people.

So Tohru and I begin divulging my ancient family secrets, filling in for each other when one of us leaves something out,


	17. Takeoffs and Landings

My Fault

Part Three

Chapter 17

Takeoffs and Landings

…

First off, I just want to say I am sooooo sorry for not updating in so long. As in Ritsu sorry. I promise to update more regularly now. I would like to thank all my reviewers, you guys are what keeps me going. I can't thank you guys enough, you're all wonderful. And if any of you are still reading after that long hiatus, I want you to know your feedback totally makes my life. This chapter is dedicated to cajun-beauty. I would like to thank her for reminding me to continue this fic and for her encouragement. I Thanks also go out to aya harushino and Cortamone for their reviews.

Chapter name is taken from a song I've never heard by a band I've never heard of, called Ataris. For some reason the song title was stuck in my head and I looked up the lyrics and they really relate to this chapter. Things start looking up for Kyo after the end of this chapter. Poor Kyo, I hate making him suffer.

…

Arisa:

As the plane touches down, my ears pop and everything starts to sound really loud. Not that I really care, but being able to hear clearly again just contributes to that intense feeling of… newness. New city, new people, new life.

Welcome to Osaka.

I allow myself be pushed along with the throng of people exiting the plane. I'm tired, and that seems the easiest thing to do at the moment. At the same time, I'm really… excited. Like I'm going to just literally burst or something. My brain is shooting rapid-fire questions at me, and I can't answer any of them very satisfactorily.

_What's it going to be like here? _

No clue.

_How long are you planning to stay?_

Once again, no clue.

_Will you see Kyo again?_

Duh.

_Are you going to forgive her?_

Shut up.

There are so many people here, it's just overwhelming. I scan the crowd, occasionally spotting people who look familiar for a second, but they always turn out to be complete strangers, obviously. But I'm not really noticing the obvious right now; I'm too weird and giddy. It's not a bad feeling, but it can be pretty dangerous if you're in for a big letdown.

Is this going to be a letdown? Again? 

Hopefully not.

Is that her? 

I don't think – wait.

I do a double take at the tall, raven-haired woman standing in the crowd of waiting people down below. She does look a lot like in the old photographs Dad never bothered to take down. He had lots of pictures of her, and a few times when he got really upset he'd throw them out or hide them under the couch, stomp on them and break the frames, you get the idea. But in the end he always got them back, reframed them, taped up the tears, and everything went back to the way it was, until he got upset again. Repeat unto infinity, end of story.

Until now, that is.

What possibly surprises me most is how young she looks. Her face is youthful, and she's pretty thin but not in an unhealthy-looking way. Her black hair is even longer than my dyed blond hair, and it shines sort of reddish where the light hits it at an angle. She looks straight at me, and I realize that I've walked to a point where I'm now standing right in front of her. She smiles, and it's energetic and welcoming. "Arisa?" she says, almost shyly.

"Yeah, Mom. It's me." It sounds so weird to say those words, like I'm in a dream, or I'm a little kid in the body of a seventeen-year-old and I'm too tall and awkward and my voice is too deep to be saying this but it feels good all the same and all I can think of to do is smile goofily.

She pulls me into an embrace, and my mind makes one last inquiry:

Are we home? 

Yeah.

…

We talk. Well, mostly I talk. A lot. I'd imagined countless variations of our reunion, and though they'd differed in a lot of ways, they'd all had one thing in common: she had been the one doing most of the talking (well, in the scenarios where there _was _talking. Some were cheesy silent movie type deals). I thought she'd explain where she'd been all my life and have some sort of reason that would make it all right and excuse her from all blame, or at least she'd apologize and ask for forgiveness from the daughter she deserted. I know people don't actually act like that but hey, it was my imagination. I couldn't help but idealize the situation in the few instances where I found myself thinking about it.

Even if this is completely different than what I imagined, it's probably better. She asks the questions, nothing too heavy but not "what's your favorite color" type things either. She asks about school, my friends, how things are going in my life; as though I'd just been away at school for the day and not out of contact for the last ten or so years. I find myself explaining in great detail about my friends, the guys in my class, how my grades are pretty good (even though they haven't been so hot lately), and etcetera. I skim over some of the less pleasant aspects of things (and by "skim over" I mean "don't mention."). It's ridiculous but I suddenly feel guilty about doing anything that would have disappointed her even though she was never there to disappoint. But I'm sure she had her reasons and she's here now, that's what matters.

Right?

She really is very young. I had thought it was just the light outside that had erased the lines from her face, but the unflattering luminosity through the tinted windows of her car reveals the truth; she can't be older than her mid thirties. She must have been really young when I was born, no older than twenty. Possibly even a teenager. That could have been a reason for her to leave, sort of. Young, irresponsible. My dad and I… I have to admit, we were a dead end. I wrack my brain for a brief moment, trying to recall what she'd looked like last I saw of her. It's fruitless, I can't recall any real details. I just saw her the way little kids see their parents; I was small, she was bigger. I was young, she was older. And she didn't smell weird which is an important thing to little kids I guess.

"I spent a while living with Tohru and the Sohmas – those guys I told you about – and I mentioned how Kyo and Yuki are always fighting, right? And Tohru had, like, this amazing calming power over them. We'd be afraid the house was going to be smashed to pieces, I'm not even joking, and Tohru would just say, "No! Please don't fight…" and they'd listen," I ramble. We both laugh, even though there really wasn't anything that funny about what I just said. It's a great moment, like we're a regular family sharing a secret joke. My spirit soars with the knowledge that I'm the one responsible for making her laugh.

I've never been much of a people pleaser, but she's just the kind of person you can't help wanting to impress.

**Kyo:**

"Kyo." Akito's voice is sickly sweet as it drags me to consciousness. My entire body protests, demanding much more sleep. Even through my eyelids I can tell it's still dark and judging by my internal clock it's somewhere around 4:00 AM. I have to remind myself not to go with my first instinct and emit a low growl. If Akito is watching me sleep and whispering to me that's seriously creepy, but as long as I don't let him know I'm awake he should leave me alone.

Yep, I'm playing dead.

Something strikes me hard across the cheek. I bite my tongue hard to keep from howling. I can taste a few drops of blood in my mouth; damn these sharp cat teeth.

"Cat," states Akito. Great, he's learned the names of his animals; what does he expect, an ice cream cone and a pat on the back as a reward? "Wake up," he intones. A pause, then louder, "Wake up! Stupid reject cat!" I roll away from him and onto my side, not so much out of defiance as it is sleepy intuition. Seconds later, I realize I shouldn't have done that. A hard cold object smashes directly into my face with dizzying power. At first it doesn't hurt because I can't comprehend what's happening. Then I start to feel a warm pressure and see tie-dye otherworldly-colored grains of sand swirling in front of and somehow behind my eyes. I holler something and scramble up until I'm standing on top of the bed, a hand braced against the wall behind me so I don't topple over. My eyes are clenched tightly shut and something warm is dripping down my face. A _lot_ of something warm. Sliding down my chin, my neck… I can feel it soaking into my shirt. My head seems to implode as my brain suddenly remembers how to process pain and stinging, throbbing fireworks suddenly start going off through it, emanating from my cheekbone. I topple down on to the bed and roll into a feral ball, my chin tucked against my chest and my hands tightly wrapped around my head. I can smell the scent of iron on myself. Sick.

"Good morning Kyo." I don't even think there's a need to specify who said that. I can hear the smile in that sick freak's voice.

My first morning in hell.

**Arisa: **

The car pulls up in front of a house. More accurately, a mansion. I knew she was well off from the car and the clothes, but this… wow. I don't think I've ever seen such a big place for one family, much less one person. I step out of the car, exhaling deeply of the city air. "This is really incredible," I say, probably sounding like an overly enthusiastic kid, but I mean it. Not just the house but life in general. My new life.

My mom laughs. "You're welcome to it." I can't wait to tell Kyo about this. After we graduate maybe we could come here and celebrate. Okay, that's definitely pushing it. I don't even know how he'd get here. But I'm certainly going to call him and tell him about this.

The house is white with a green roof, conspicuously American-styled compared to the other more traditional houses in the neighborhood. My mom hands me the house keys almost ceremoniously and invites me to unlock the door (which is also green and American style). I turn the knob, push, and step inside.

I remember when my mom left. She and Dad had been arguing, as they seemed to be doing more and more frequently as time progressed. I couldn't really understand what they argued about, I think it was my dad not getting paid enough and my mom wanting to move or something. It had gotten to be pretty routine, and he was never violent though sometimes she was. This time was different though. She was more contained than usual, and it was him that was acting aggressively, yelling and actually overturning a chair. In the middle of it, she just announced she'd found someone else. The room went silent with potent abruptness. "What," my dad said, a statement and not a question, like he was inviting her to take her words back. "What." And then she left. She just walked confidently out the door and left him standing there stunned.

I crawled out from my hiding place in the corner behind the sofa and over to the window and looked out. The weather was disgustingly pleasant. I could see her walking – tall, strong, calm – getting smaller as she got farther away. It was like a scene from a movie, her hair blowing in the wind as she stepped into a car that had been parked a few houses down, engine running. Even though it was far away I could see the whole thing clearly since my senses seemed to have gone into hyperdrive from all the adrenaline that must have been coursing through my veins at that point. I got a clear look at the driver as he opened the passenger side door for her, and I _recognized _him. I had seen him before on numerous occasions.

Either when Dad was out of the house or I was out with my mom, she would meet with the man. I would ask questions (Who is he? What's going on? Is he a friend?) but no one would ever answer them, just scold me for being rude. I was often sent to my room when he was over, and I thought it was punishment for being rude. To tell the truth, I was always sort of grateful to get away. I had no clue what was going on but nevertheless the situation made me uncomfortable. From my room I'd hear them talking, but I don't remember if I was able to make out the words. Probably not. I do remember them both laughing and I thought, "She never laughs like that with Dad," which struck me as peculiar because my dad made jokes all the time and in my mind he was the world's best comedian. You have to understand that before he started drinking he was a completely different person. I damn near idolized the man. But people change.

Obviously.

Now that my mom was back in my life, I doubt I would have been surprised – though I can't say I'd have been pleased – if I'd seen The Man here. But instead I stand paralyzed in the doorway, staring at the guy flopped out on the couch watching television because there's no way I could have prepared for this.

It's not The Man.

**Kyo:**

I regain consciousness and immediately scold myself for having passed out. I look around my surroundings frantically but let out a sigh of relief upon realizing I'm once again alone. The room is still completely dark but for the red glow of some eerily levitating numbers, but I can sense I'm by myself. At least all those years of martial arts training weren't a complete waste. I pull myself up off the floor - I guess I'd somehow fallen off the bed while in that daze – managing only minor nausea. The floor is hard (also sticky, but I'm too exhausted to be disgusted by that) and, having been splayed awkwardly across it, my joints are now quite sore. I do some stretching before I bother to check the time.

It's not 4:00 AM. It's nearly noon and for a moment all I can do is gawk at the blinking red numbers on the digital alarm clock Akito has been so kind as to provide me with in my cage. My sleep pattern is completely screwed up.

Suddenly I want to laugh, not in a happy way but in a TV psycho killer way. Because… as though it matters. There's no reason to get up early to train anymore, or even to train at all for that matter. I lost, end of story. In fact, I think I'll be doing quite a bit of sleeping now.

But not _right _now. I run my hands along the cool, smooth walls, fingers searching for a light switch. I don't find one, but I do stumble upon a window – quite literally. My foot hits the bed mid-step and I fall forward, my arms, stretched out blindly before me, grab onto some sort of ledge in the wall. Behind the ledge there's some sort of plastick-y sheet, behind that: cool glass – a window.

After a brief struggle with the mechanism, I manage to get the blinds open. The window's small and square, with overlapping glass sheets that can be slid around to open and allow outdoor air in or closed to keep the room warm. There are bars on it. Damn Akito. Still, the light that streams in allows me to look around the room since yesterday…

Oh man, I can't remember what happened yesterday after I got in that car. Maybe I passed out, that seems to be happening a lot lately. I should probably talk to Hatori about that.

I scan my surroundings, which doesn't take long. This place is tiny; I doubt the size is even legal. Then again, neither is kidnapping a guy and putting him in a cage for the rest of his life. But it's not like anyone is going to call the cops on the Jade Emperor.

There's a small table in the corner with a plate of onigiri on it, a merciless parody of my morning routine back at Shigure's place. The sight turns my stomach. No way am I going to touch anything Akito leaves me. I move on, catching sight of myself in a mirror from opposite the room, located above a sink with a pitcher seated beside it. I gravitate towards the mirror, unable to pry my eyes away. My face is covered in dried blood and the area around one of my eyes looks swollen; combine that with the cast on my arm and I look like I've been hit by a train. With my good hand I grab the pitcher of water and start to clean my face. The water turns a pinkish color as it splashes off my face and into the sink, then drains away.

I brace myself before I look in the mirror again, but when I finally do I'm pleasantly surprised for once in my life. The injury isn't nearly as bad as it had appeared at first. There's a cut across my cheek, deep but short, and a ghostly premonition of a bruise near my eye. Ha, Akito will have to do better than that.

Seeing nothing else interesting, I go to close the blinds so that I can sleep again. I narrowly avoid stepping on some jagged shards of glass, the remnants of whatever Akito had thrown at me – looks like a lamp.

With the room now dark, I crawl back into bed to sleep the rest of the day away, leaving the shards of glass untouched where they had fallen.

**Arisa:**

It takes every fiber of my being not to demand, "Who the hell _is _that?" but I manage to restrain myself. Barely.

The way he's lounging there like he owns the place, the volume on the television cranked up loud… I know snap judgments are a dangerous thing, but this guy really irks me.

"Arisa, this is Tsukasa," my mother introduces.

Tsukasa looks up, sees us, and finally gets his lazy ass off the couch. "Arisa-san. It is an honor to meet you," he says.

"Tsukasa-san," I acknowledge, bowing slightly. Very slightly.

He's wearing expensive clothes, like he has a business meeting to go to or something. He's pretty young too, maybe even a few years younger than my mom. His hair is short and jet black except for a few streaks of pure white in his bangs; I can't tell if he bleached it like that or it just went that way as he aged. The way his long white hair shags in his eyes I guess is trying to make some sort of fashion statement.

To my mom, Tsukasa says, "I'm needed at work, I'll be out for a little while." I guess my business meeting theory was right them.

"You're leaving already? That's a shame," she says disappointedly.

"I know. It was nice meeting you, Arisa-san. Hopefully I'll see you when I get back," he says, making his way towards the door.

"Oh, I'm sure you will. She's living here now after all."

I am? I don't know who's more surprised to hear that, Tsukasa or I. "I am?" I manage weakly.

My mom looks at me, eyes full of concern. "Arisa… I thought that was understood. Why did you think you were coming here?"

I thought… actually, I'm not even really sure what I thought. In the call she'd just asked if I wanted to come here, and I'd assumed she'd just meant to visit. A long visit by the sound of it, like for a month or something, and then if I liked it I could stay here. I guess a month long visit _is _pretty much the same as living here. Maybe it was just the way she said it that threw me off, like she'd made up my mind for me. Or maybe the term "living here" just sounds so much more serious than "visiting here." Come to think of it, I'm not sure what term Tohru and the Sohmas used. I'm not even sure what term I used. Man, I'm being such an idiot. I finally manage to break the awful silence. "Oh, yeah. I was just… wanting to clarify."

She seems somehow relieved by my lame answer. "Okay, good. I wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"Huh? No, I'm totally comfy," I quip.

"I'm glad to hear that. Oh, bye Tsukasa!" she says, turning to… an empty space. "Oh, I guess he left already. He's like that, he's the type who can leave or enter a room without you really noticing, you know?" I don't, but I nod like I do. "Well then… would you like a tour of the place?"

"Yeah, that would be great, thanks."

"No problem, you live here now, right?" she grins. I try to return the expression and manage a weak smile. Yeah. Right. That's me, Lives-In-A-Mansion Uotani at your service.

She shows me around and thankfully the conversation shifts back to the easy stuff.

"This is the dishwasher," says my mom.

"Is it weird that I've never seen one of those before except on infomercials?" I ask.

She laughs. "No, it's not. Lot's of people don't have them, I guess people had more old fashioned houses where you lived. Come on, there's way more exciting things to see here than the dishwasher."

We continue on the tour, and I learn that we're on the ground level where the living room, kitchen, and dining room are. There's also an upstairs level for the bedrooms and washroom. And there's even a basement "for laundry and the stuff we can't put anywhere else."

"Now I'll show you the backyard," says my mom, who seems to be having a lot of fun on this tour.

How rich are these people? We step through the screen door and into a spacious clearing with lush green grass and countless species of exotic-looking flowers and ferns, all perfectly groomed. There are a few tall trees, all of which look to be non-native to the area since I haven't seen them outside the yard (but how should I know, I'm not a botanist). Perfectly centered in the whole thing is a swimming pool, the water perfectly clear except for a bright green leaves floating at the top, the surface utterly flat and undisturbed.

It suddenly occurs to me that this place looks exactly like the houses in Hollywood movies. "So… why the American theme?" I query. Don't get me wrong, this house is amazing and I have nothing against Americans, I just don't get why some people obsess so much over everything overseas-ish.

"Tsukasa grew up in America. He only moved to Japan when he was in his twenties."

"He's American?"

"Oh no, he was born here so he has the Japanese citizenship. His parents were Japanese, and he's lived here over ten years now so I wouldn't consider him American," says my mom. She really seems to enjoy talking about Tsukasa. Maybe I'll end up getting some answers after all.

"Do you know why he moved?" I throw out casually.

"Business reasons. He found out he could get a higher paying position if he transferred here."

If I just keep building this up… "So he's really hardworking then?"

My mom laughs. "Wait until I tell him you said that. You're probably the only person to describe him as hardworking, _ever. _He's totally lazy, but he's brilliant." Okay, I can believe the first part, but _brilliant? _Okay, maybe I haven't given him a fair chance, but still, I'd like to see some of this brilliance for myself. "And he'll do what he has to for money." Suddenly she looks to me very seriously. "I don't want to give you the wrong idea about him. He's a nice man, the nicest I've met in a long time, maybe in my life. He's really sweet and interesting, so give him a chance, okay?"

"I will," I mumble. Was that those motherly psychic powers you hear so much about or just a coincidence? Either way, here's my chance. "So, how long have you two been together?" I blurt out.

At first I'm sure I've overstepped my boundaries. All is quiet and I stare intently at my shoes. Did I just blow it all? Am I going to get kicked out of the house? But a few seconds later, she answers, and she doesn't even seem upset. "I suppose it would be about two years now." _Two years?_ my mind screams at me. _What was she doing those other eight years? _She continues, "We sort of hit it off immediately. We just clicked and things went from there. I found I could be honest with him, and it was just so great to finally have someone to talk to about… well, everything." She goes quiet again, like she doesn't know what else to say.

"Yeah. I know what you mean," I say. And I do.

But _Tsukasa?_

My mom suddenly perks right up. "Hey, you know what? We should go out to eat tonight, the three of us. Osaka is famous for its food; you really have to try it. And you could ask Tsukasa yourself about these things, I'm sure you two would have a lot to talk about. He's a good conversationalist once you get to know him, and he's been looking forward to meeting you." I find that last part hard to believe seeing how he fled the house as soon as he laid eyes on me, but hey, might as well get to know him if I'm going to be living with the guy. Just because I'm going to give him a fair chance doesn't mean I'm going to end up liking him.

"Sounds like a plan, I'll look forward to that. Um, do you mind if I go shower and take a nap first, though? I'm feeling sort of jet lagged," I explain.

"Of course I don't mind. Do you want me to show you the way?" she offers.

"No, I think I remember from the tour." I grin, not forced this time, and she smiles back.

As I'm halfway up the stairs, she suddenly calls up, "Arisa?"

"Yeah?"

"It's really great to see you again." I still can't wrap my mind around how she can say things like that so casually, as though I'd just been away at school. I guess it's sort of reassuring to know there isn't some huge rift between us.

"You too," I say, trying to sound casual as well.


	18. Perfect Teeth

My Fault

Part 3

Chapter 18

Perfect Teeth

…

I would like to thank cajun-beauty for the review. I made up Osaka Academy for this story. If it's a real school I didn't know. The chapter title comes from the name of a song by Motion City Soundtrack. The "Different isn't bad, it's just different" thing actually was my sixth grade social teacher's motto. He said it about 17 times a class.

…

**Arisa:**

"So Tsukasa, you got another name?" I ask, stuffing a piece of tamago into my mouth with chopsticks. Tsukasa wanted to get burgers, but I said I'd prefer something more traditional and he gave in. Funny, I've never thought of myself as a traditionalist.

For some reason he looks shocked at the question, but he answers, "Terry."

"Tori?" I repeat. "Weird last name."

"Oh, you meant a last name! I thought you meant my American one. It's Aioki," he says.

"Like the car?" I say.

"Exactly," he says.

"Tsukasa's family owns Aioki corporation," my mom puts in.

"Really? You must be pretty rich, man." Both of them look a little shocked again. _Is money a taboo topic? Damn it, I'm so used to being able to talk about anything with my friends, I don't even know what's rude anymore. _Then I realize that I've been talking like a guy again. _Well, if they're going to accept me, they_'re _gonna have to accept me weird speech patterns and all, _I think, slightly pissed.

Since no one seems to know what to say to that, I attempt to revive the conversation after its painful death. "So, since you have different last names, I guess you two aren't married." Only after the words are out of my mouth do I realize they're even more taboo than talking about money.

But at least this time I get an answer. My mom says, "No, we're not. Since I never officially divorced your father, I couldn't legally marry Tsukasa." She looks at him for a long time, an expression on her face that I can't figure out.

I get the feeling there's more to it than that, but I let it slide. Not my business. Besides, pointing out that my dad's no longer standing in the way of anything is definitely not proper dinner table etiquette; even I can see that.

"You must be curious about what you'll be doing for school," my mom says, changing the subject.

No actually, that's been the last thing on my mind. But I say, "Yeah, I was wondering." The correct answer.

"I've registered you at Osaka Academy. You'll have some tests to take to see if you're eligible, but you should ace them no problem. I get the feeling you're smart." She smiles at me, displaying two rows of gleaming perfect teeth.

I don't have the heart to tell her I'm not, really. A smart person wouldn't have gotten into as much shit as I did. But I smile back, and it's fake and imperfect but the best I've got and I say, "Thanks." Against my will my voice comes out in a shy, polite, higher octave than usual; the epitome of traditional femininity. Maybe _I _don't want to change my speech patterns, but my body isn't listening.

…

I wake up in the middle of the night. Okay, that's a lie; you can't wake up if you never fell asleep. But I'm in that sleepy world bordering on a dream when I'm suddenly jerked fully alert. At first I'm not sure what brought me back to reality; then I hear the arguing. _Just like old times. _The thought is more tired than cynical. At first I have no idea where they're coming from; they sound distant and tinny. The vent, I realize.

"… you can't keep this kind of thing to yourself…" A voice says. It's coming from downstairs, muffled through but definitely male. Tsukasa?

" Why the hell not?" This voice is louder, more high pitched. Mom? Whoever it is, she sounds pretty upset. I slip out of bed, careful to be silent even though I doubt they'd hear me anyway, and crouch down beside the heat-vent on the wall.

"Ignoring this won't make it go away," the male voice states. It's definitely Tsukasa; I can tell by the slow way he talks, which always strikes me as… I don't know, unintelligent I guess. Purposeful, but never really with any emotion. That's true in this case too, unless weariness counts as an emotion.

"Excuse me? You have no right to talk to me like that, you don't have any idea what it's like." That has to be Mom. She sounds exactly like her old self, when she was still with Dad and I was still a kid. Wild and fiery but oddly sophisticated, like a person in a movie. Funny how you remember things like that years later.

"Look, just consider seeing someone about this. I don't want to lose you."

"Stop pretending you can just put off the inevitable! No one can stop this, the world just doesn't work that way!" She sobs loudly, and all at once any trace of sophistication dissipates. I feel embarrassed for eavesdropping on this and slink back into bed, a thousand half-thoughts running through my mind. _Has she really changed at all? Why do I like Tsukasa a lot more all of a sudden?_ _Does he mean they're breaking up? Would she be justified to leave him? Where would I go if that happened?_

It seems to take forever for sleep to come to me, even though I'm extremely tired. I guess the real question would be _tired of what? _The moonlight pours softly through the curtains, and I can see specks of dust swirling through the beam of light. _Their house isn't so perfect. They have dust, just like normal people. _It's a ridiculous thing to think, but it somehow seems important.

Self-indulgently, I start imagining a whole idealized alternate life for myself. It gets more and more illogical as it goes on, making the slow metamorphosis into a dream. Kyo's holding my hand and we're standing on a hill, overlooking a small but beautiful house. I can't see him, but I know my dad is inside, ready to smile and joke the moment I step in. It's raining lightly, but it's just the perfect temperature and feels great on my skin, and the sun is out, but not bright enough to sting my eyes. The sky is amazing – not an exciting kaleidoscope of colours or anything, but soft shades of lilac and yellow.

"_How was school?" _asks Kyo.

"_Good, but I'm glad it's over," _I answer.

He smiles. _"You'll have to introduce me to your friends." _

"_Of course I will. We can go see them right now," _I say.

We get on my motorcycle, which has somehow appeared out of nowhere. The engine starts up, reassuringly strong, and as the wheels turn they grip onto the air, carrying us up into the clouds.

"_Have a good time with your friends," _my mom says. For some reason it doesn't bother me that she's standing on a cloud. _"Stay safe." _

"_See ya," _I call, waving.

Then I wake up and I know it's morning and I won't be leaving anytime soon. Even moving won't let me escape my life.

I wash up in the washroom adjacent my bedroom and change into a pair of camouflage pants, a white tank top, and a long black coat (plain, since I don't think my Red Butterfly one would go over too well here). I head downstairs and see my mom is already there at the table, reading the paper.

"Oh, hey! You're up. I made you breakfast," she greets, smiling and putting the paper down.

"Thanks."

She looks at me closely. "Something wrong?" she says.

"Nah, just tired." I take a piece of toast, holding it with my mouth as I transfer some miso soup from the serving bowl to my own. "Sorry," I say, realizing I'm probably being rude again.

She laughs. "Don't worry about it, this is just home, you'll find we're not too strict here. When did you become so polite?"

_During all those years you weren't in my life and I was hanging out with Tohru and Hana. _I just shrug, hoping it's a rhetorical question. "Where is Tsukasa anyway?" I ask, a few minutes later.

"He had to go to work, he should be back by ten-ish. Which means… we've got the whole day to do whatever we want, just us," she says warmly.

"Great," I say, flashing that inept fake smile once again. I can't quite sort out if this is "great" or not, but somehow it doesn't seem like it.

…

"Whatever we want" turns out to be whatever she wants, and that turns out to be going to the mall. Not that I mind or anything, it's just different than I expected. To quote my sixth grade social studies teacher, "Different isn't bad, it's just different." Not the most eloquent motto, but seeing as how the forces of the universe seem to be determined to thwart absolutely every one of my expectations, I'd better start living by it.

"There's something I have to go pick up, let's meet back here in… oh, about two-and-a-half hours?" my mom proposes.

I realize she's waiting for an answer. "Works for me," I say. As soon as I open my mouth the words pop out stupidly, but she just nods and leaves, quickly swallowed out of view by the massive crowd.

I'm near the entrance to the mall, directly in the center of a spanning empty space. I mean, not technically empty, since there's tons of people everywhere, coming and going nonstop as if the directions around this place are hardwired into their brains. The sounds of their shoes clinking on the polished salmon tiles, scuffing it up, combines with the sound of conversation to make the kind of deafening white noise that doesn't allow you to think clearly.

Thankfully, electronics don't need to think and are working perfectly. My watch display reads exactly **"12:45." **That gives me more than enough time; I'm planning to just walk around, look at stuff, relax. Granted, a crowded shopping center filled with loud strangers taking cell phone pictures / flirting / breaking up isn't the ideal place for calming and relaxation, but it's not like there's anything I need to buy and I don't have much money anyway. That plane ticket cost a pretty substantial chunk of my finances, and with no job anymore…

Slung over my shoulder with a thick strap, my purse is really the nicest, most costly thing on me at the moment. It's pure undiluted black, not faded like my coat or scuffed like my shoes. I fiddle the clasp on it undone and check inside. There's my wallet with my bank card in it, but nothing on that except for university money – not nearly enough and I'm not even liking my chances of getting in, but I long ago decided to be an optimist, saving up whatever I could spare and keeping up with my studies. Well, until recently.

Huh? My hand closes around something thick and papery, stuck beside my wallet. I withdraw my hand and take a look at the object. Whoa. I stare at disbelief at the big wad of cash in my hands. The bills are bound together with a strip of white paper. I turn it over and see the paper has something written on it in elegant script using thick black marker. **_"Arisa, here's some spending money. Have fun!!!! – Mom." _**

Weird, but cool. I'm not used to people going through my stuff, but I decide not to ruin the gesture by dwelling on that. I put the money away and start walking. Confidently, just part of the crowd. A seemingly contradictory mix of self-importance and insignificance rises up in me. It takes me a while to place it. For the first time in my memory, I feel normal.

_The crowd flows from place to place, individual people bouncing around but carried by the current, like water molecules taking the shape of their container_. In my suddenly buzzed state, that sounds sort of poetic.

An hour later, I've made a few purchases – a red T-shirt with a butterfly on it (a small homage to Kyoko), a non-faded coat, a skirt. I'm wearing my purchases right now, my old clothes stored in a bag dangling from my wrist. The saleswoman had acted like she thought I should just throw them out, but even though her superior attitude grated on my nerves, I let it go and politely told her I'd rather keep my old stuff too. You get used to people treating you like that, and it's much worse when you don't have money. People pretending to like you is better than them deluding themselves into thinking they're taking pity on you by implying with the subtlety of a cannonball that your type isn't welcome.

I catch sight of myself in one of the giant mirrors on the roof (I have no idea why they decided to put mirrors there, but hey, I'm not complaining). Whatever my "type" is, it looks pretty good at the moment. Except… my shoes are sort of raggedy. They have a few small rips, and I can see my socks through them. They have a few more months of use in them, but now that I can afford better, I might as well replace them. It's ironic; I think I have everything I need until the moment I can afford better. Nevertheless, I quickly run in to replace them, as though I'm nervous about anyone catching me in sub-standard footwear. I settle on a pair of green skater-shoes. They're costly, but I still have most of the spending money left. Did Mom realize how much she gave me? Maybe it's meant to be spread out over a long period of time, because the amount is pretty ridiculous for all at once.

My watch beeps, telling me I have fifteen minutes before I have to go meet her. I remember I haven't eaten since breakfast, so I head back towards the food court.

A crowd of people in their late-teens is gathered around the noodle soup place. "Hey, you in line?" I ask a girl about my age. Her back is turned to me, and I can see she has long black hair. She shows no response, so I tap her on the shoulder. "Yo, I asked you a question."

She turns around, swiftly looking me over with an expression of distaste plastered across her delicate features. "People are having a conversation here," she sneers.

"Yeah, well, _people _have to eat. Are you in line?" I repeat.

She sighs, acting like she's lecturing a particularly stupid kid and not getting through. She makes a sweeping gesture, as though a visual aid will help me see the obvious. "There's dozens of other places for you to go. Leave us alone."

She continues talking down to me, but I tune it out, all my brainpower going towards trying to make sense of the scene unfolding behind her. I'm much taller than her and can easily see what's going on, even though she's obviously trying to block my view. Her futile attempts would be sort of funny, but what I'm seeing completely drains any humor out of the moment.

The crowd of teenagers is clustered around a terrified-looking girl standing behind the counter at the noodle place. Her eyes are wide and it looks like she's about to cry. One of the teenagers, this one a tall guy with bleached hair, says something to her. She barely has a chance to mumble a monosyllable response while staring at the ground before the guy interrupts her. Everyone laughs at whatever he said, except for the girl who looks even more distressed if that's possible, and for me who just sort of stands there.

"Hey, did you hear what I said?" the annoying girl I've been conversing with says. In answer, I simply push past her. "Hey! What was _that_ for?"

At the center of it all, the girl looks up at me, the fear never leaving her expression. She just thinks I'm another of her tormentors. "Please, leave me alone, all of you. I'll lose my job… again… please… just go…" Her weak protests don't do her any good, just cause the crowd to break into more laughter.

I can't help it, I explode. "Didn't you losers hear what she said? Get out of here before I kick all your asses!" I proclaim.

"Bitch, what'syourproblem?" asks Tall Guy, looking at me as though I'm something gross he's stepped in.

"Maybe _you're _my problem, bitch," I say.

He balls his hands into fists, and I realize I've unconsciously done the same already. "If you weren't a chick, I'd hit you so hard…"

"If you weren't a pathetic poser, I might actually care what you have to say."

I really want to just punch him in the face and get this over with, but I resolved years ago to leave that life behind. Plus, I doubt it will make a good impression with mom if she has to drive her fancy car down to the police station to pick me up.

The poser thing sets Tall Guy off, no fists necessary. His face actually goes a reddish-purple, and he looks like he's going to say something. He must not be able to think of any comebacks, because he settles on overturning a random table.

"Wow. If I had four legs and was made of wood, I'd be scared stiff right now." I don't mean to say it, it just pops out of my mouth in a dry taunt.

For a moment I think he actually is about to hit me, but he just smiles and mutters one of the most pathetic warnings I've ever heard: "You'll be sorry you helped her. She's a threat to society." He storms off dramatically, his gang of losers trailing behind him. I roll my eyes before looking back to the noodle place's counter to see if the quiet girl is all right.

She's nowhere to be seen.

That's not possible, how could she have left in such a short time without anyone noticing? Amongst the din of all the mall people going about their lives, my ears somehow manage to pick up what sounds like crying. Definitely very close by.

Sure enough, I look down and quickly spot her on the floor behind the counter, back against the wall with her knees drawn up to her chest. Her hands hide her face but she's obviously crying.

I suck at situations like this. A lot. "They're gone now. It's all right," I say lamely, gracelessly climbing over the counter.

To my surprise, she looks right up at me, dries her face on the sleeve of her uniform, and says in a steady voice, "I know. Thanks for helping me out, you really did save my job."

I shrug. "Guy was a jerk, I just thought it was time someone told him off."

"That was Jiro. He's actually not that bad. He only gets like this when he's around Sadako – that girl you were talking to."

I nod. "I know the type. We have them where I come from too, unfortunately."

"You're not from around here? I guess I should have realized, since you didn't know Sadako's gang. And you don't look familiar either." She still looks a bit scared, but not nearly as badly as before. As though she's said something she shouldn't have, she abruptly changes the topic. "Do you skateboard?"

"Uh, no. Why? Do you?" I say, thrown by the question. Japan doesn't even have many skateboarders, so it's entirely out of the blue.

"Oh. Yeah, I do. Just, your shoes. T-they're very nice." She points to my new shoes – skateboard ones.

This draws my attention to her shoes. They're in pretty much the same state as my old ones would be in if I wore them every day for another year; several tears of varying sizes, and sheets of cardboard visible through the worn-out bottoms. "I actually won these in a competition thing one of the stores was having. You can have them if you want; I've got no use for them. They're not my colour, or even my size, really." Okay, I've just lied through my teeth approximately three times in a row, but I just know she won't accept them if she knows the truth.

"I don't know, they're really nice…"

"Exactly, so it's better someone actually used them for what they were made for than if they just sit in the back of my closet, right? We must respect the shoe…"

She laughs at my stupid joke. "If you're sure…"

"'Course I am. I'm quite a decisive person."

"That you certainly are."

"And I've only had them on for about fifteen minutes, so no gross foot smell if that's what you're worried about. Not that I'm a person with gross foot smell or anything."

"I'm sure you're not. Thanks, I promise to put them to good use." She smiles at me for the first time during out entire conversation. "My name's Gin Bisco by the way."

"Arisa Uotani."

"Thank you for your help, Arisa-san."

"I was glad to. So, are you still in school?"

"Uh huh. Last year."

"Where do you go?" She suddenly looks guilty, like she'd be violating some unspoken rule by answering. "I'm about to start at Osaka Academy," I add.

"Oh! I go there, I could ask to be in your class. Um, if that would be okay with you, that is."

"That sounds cool, and of course it would be okay. We're friends, right?"

"Friends… wow." Very seriously, she adds, "Are you sure you want to be friends with me? I mean, you heard what they said, there's the whole "threat to society" factor involved in this."

I still don't understand that remark. At the worst, Gin doesn't seem to have top-notch social skills, but she doesn't seem like a threat to anything. On the contrary, she's one of those people who virtually radiate easy-target rays. It's hard to explain, because it's not like there's anything wrong with her – she sounds intelligent, is nowhere near as annoying as the people harassing her, looks about average height and weight, and has a pretty face. She has features that can only be described as striking. Behind dark lashes, her eyes are vibrant - maybe slightly too wide, but not that you'd notice, really. Her shiny black hair is perfectly straight and just long enough to hang in front of her eyes. Her nose has a bit of a dent in it, again nothing really noticeable. But from her mannerisms you can just tell that she's not quite like the "ruling class," majority on the social tree (okay, mixed metaphor, but you get the point). That's probably a good thing. I say, "If those guys are society, maybe it's about time they felt threatened."

I help Gin to reset the overturned table, despite her protests. She looks at her watch and exclaims, "My shift's over, I-I have to go. I'd stay, but my parents don't like me out of the house except to work. To tell the truth, this isn't really my type of place anyway."

"Yeah, me neither," I say. I'm not sure if it's true or not. Twice today I truly felt like this is my kind of place – first when I found that money. Second when I was arguing with Jiro.

It's only after she's gone that I realize something. During our entire meeting, fear never for a second completely left Gin's eyes.

Looking at my watch, it takes a while for my brain to make sense of the numbers. Then suddenly it all clicks – I'm vastly late. "Shit," I mutter under my breath, dashing off to where I was supposed to meet Mom.

Turns out she's even later. It takes another half-hour before she shows up, and I basically spend it staring at the ceiling, watching mirror images of the people in the crowd walking by a mirror image of myself. If everything in the mirror-world is opposite, maybe things make sense there.

But it doesn't look like it.

"What took you so long?" I ask when she finally shows up. Maybe it's rude, but I'm far too tired to care. My mom looks tired too.

"I'm sorry, they had to take some measurements and make phone calls that I wasn't expecting. I thought this whole thing was sorted out before, but apparently not," she says.

"Where did you go, anyway?"

Her gaze clouds over for a minute, and she too stares up at the ceiling. "Nowhere that would interest you," she says eventually.

I let it go at that. Probably to buy clothes or something. She asks what I bought and I point to myself. "That's nice," she says, but I think she looks a bit disappointed. "Just those?"

"Yeah. Just these."

As we exit, I take one last glance up at Mirror Arisa's beat-up shoes.

**Kyo:**

I can't say I've gotten used to it. It's not the type of thing you can get used to, at least not in the span of a few days. I'm still angry with Akito for doing this to me. I'm still tired no matter how much I sleep. Mostly I'm hungry, but I can't seem to force myself to eat.

But even if I'm not mentally, I am healing physically. Hatori comes every day to check on me, and says soon my cast will be off. The cut where Akito hurt me has healed. There's a tiny scar, but seeing Hatori everyday reminds me that it could have been worse.

I wish I could go outside, be with Arisa. I wish that I could be free, like I was before, only without the imminent threat of imprisonment looming ahead of me. If I could go back and not be afraid, I would, because fear has taken more from me than Akito ever could.

I probably sound like a self-righteous freak, and maybe I am. But I think in actuality I'm merely a person with way too much time to think. Maybe this is what it's like to be a ghost – desperately wanting to fix the mistakes you'd made, do the things you never got a chance to do, or just have one more day of really living. Maybe that's why ghosts are always portrayed as creepy, bitter, or wise – those are the three things you can become when you have all the time in the world to think and absolutely no ability to make any changes in that world, no matter how minor. I don't feel wise, and I'm not as bitter as I'd expected, so looks like I'm heading towards the first option.

Somehow, this is nothing like I thought it would be. Akito comes and visits for a few hours each day to talk to me. Most of what he says is just nonsensical ramblings, but lately he has started to occasionally make sense. Maybe that just means I'm becoming as insane as he is. He tells me how hard it is to be him, to live knowing you're about to die. Occasionally I find myself caring, but mostly I just listen numbly to his hypocritical rantings as he complains of losing control of everything. At least he's less into the physical abuse than he used to be. "My body's not right; can't fix it. I'll hurt people, break them like toys, but it just makes it worse. Makes me worse. They heal, but I can't hide it. They know – I can't hide it from everyone – not a proper god. Not what was expected, at least. I hate her, with all my soul. Do you know? Did Shigure tell you?" Akito said a few hours ago in a moment of not-quite-clarity. I said no, because I seriously had no clue what the hell he was on about. This seemed to reassure him, and he left.

I had gone back to bed to sleep the last few hours of the day away. I don't sleep well, but then again, sometimes here I have a hard time discerning between dreams and reality. I don't let myself imaging alternate lives, as I often feel strongly tempted to do. I can't think in what-ifs because I'll just completely lose it. That's the only thing I'm still afraid of – if I start living in a fantasy world, I know I'll slowly lose touch with my real life, with Arisa. I have my memories of our time together, and that's literally all that's keeping me sane.

That doesn't mean the imaginary world will leave me alone. It infiltrates my mind in dreams, daydreams, even flat-out hallucinations. Which is why when I hear Yuki's voice and something knocking on the window bars, I don't even look up.

"Kyo, it's _me. _It's _Yuki. _Get over here. Get up all ready, I don't have much time. Look, if this is some grudge you have against me, I can understand – but I'd never want something like this to happen to you, and I hate myself for allowing it – are you even listening?"

I sit up, look straight at him. He does look like Yuki, but I've had lifelike hallucinations before, and some of those seemed way more real than this. "How do I know you're really Yuki?" I say.

"What? What kind of question is that? I'm Yuki, you can obviously see that, can't you, you stupid cat?"

Yeah, it's him. My hallucinations tend to be more polite – I suppose I'm already seeing things through a nostalgic lens, idealizing every aspect of my old life. "Why are you here?" I ask, walking over to the window.

"To get you out of course."

"Are you alone?"

"Yeah, I came by myself."

"No offense, but you don't seem to have any means of removing the bars," I point out.

"I can't get you out today, but I'm coming back."

"You came to tell me you can't get me out? Man, that just makes my day."

"Don't talk like that!" Yuki snaps.

"Like what?"

"That! Like it's all hopeless."

Huh? I thought I was talking normally. "Whatever," I say. "Is there actually a reason you're here?"

"Weren't you listening? I came to check on you, tell you the basic plan," Yuki says.

"Which would be?"

He sighs. "We think we can get Hatori to help us on this. Shigure's too risky to trust, but Hatori seems to have a conscience. It will be soon, maybe a week or two. If he's willing to do it, he'll give you some sort of sign. And if he's not in on it, we'll still find a way to get you out." Yuki pauses before adding, "Have you been eating? You don't look good."

"I'm fine, just get me out of this hell as soon as possible."

He nods. It's weird, but I get the feeling he agrees with me for the first time. "Will do. You're actually sort of brave, in a stupid cat way." He says the compliment awkwardly, like it's some animal that's clamped hold of his tongue.

"And you're actually sort of helpful, in a… formerly-completely-unhelpful-person way," I say lamely.

He smiles. "I've got to get back now, or Shigure will get suspicious."

"Where did you tell him you were going?"

"To visit Hanajima-san's family."

"Doesn't that already sound sort of suspicious?"

"Yeah, but I'll be back at his place before he realizes. Well, see ya." He starts walking.

Just before he disappears completely from the view of my small barred window, I call softly, "Hey Yuki?"

To my surprise, he hears. "What is it?"

"Thanks for coming here. With Akito and all… it was hard I guess." Maybe I'm overdoing it, but the moment is already pretty tacky and emotional.

"It's no problem," Yuki mutters.

And he's gone.


	19. Wishful Thinking

My Fault

Part 3

Chapter 19

Wishful Thinking

I would like to thank LadyAlina, Kamu-San, akaiihana, and watevr for their reviews on the last chapter.

…

**Yuki:**

"Tohru-kun, telephone!" Shigure's call startles me into spilling hot tea down the front of my shirt. Tohru comes running into the room, thanking Shigure as she accepts the phone from him. Maybe that's Uotani calling, since it's pretty rare for Tohru to get phone calls. I rummage around until I find some paper towels and begin mopping up the spill, first off the table, and then off myself. I realize the latter is a futile effort, as my shirt is now dyed a light brown with what remains of my warm beverage, thus I head to my room to locate a different shirt.

After changing, I open the door to my room to find Tohru waiting for me. "She wants to talk to you – it's Uo-chan," Tohru tells me.

Why would Uotani be calling _me_? We've always gotten along okay, but it's not like we've ever been close. Even when she lived here we kept our distance – not that we actively avoided each other or anything of that sort, but neither of us ever made much of an effort to interact with the other. Thankfully, I don't have more than a few seconds to contemplate the matter before I grasp the receiver, bring it to my mouth, and politely say," Hello?" because I have never been anything if not polite. Pathetically, agonizingly polite.

"Yo," answers the voice on the other end, crackly with static but undoubtedly Uotani.

"Um, how are things in Osaka?" I say, still with no idea why she's talking to me, but of course the innate politeness will never permit such a direct question to pass my lips. Countless _"why's " _have been born and died without ever wandering from between my ears, and there's no indication this will be an exception.

"Good. How about where you are?"

"Good." And… it's awkward silence time again.

"Any specific reason you wanted to talk to me?" a voice finally says. Kyo? I speculate ridiculously. Of course it's not him, I was the one who said it. Somehow that seems even more ridiculous. I half expect to receive an electric shock for my deviance from the polite code.

Uotani answers the disembodied voice's query with one of her own: "Do you know where Kyo is?"

He didn't tell her, then? At least I wasn't the only one kept out of the loop, but somehow that doesn't make me feel any better – it just feels like I've swallowed a rock. Then again, I've basically been eating gravel during this entire unsettling conversation. But there's no reason for that; she called _me_ after all, and it's really none of my business what Kyo tells her. "He's out right now," I say, unable to come up with anything better. "Do you want me to give him a message?"

"Out. That's what Tohru said, too," Uotani says abstractedly, disregarding my question.

"And… you don't believe her?"

"No, it's not that. Of course I believe her." Uotani's tone implies the "Have you lost your mind? This is _Tohru _we're talking about." Out loud, she adds, "I just thought you might know a few more specifics."

"He was vague about it," I say, immediately wanting to grind my teeth at my own stupidity.

Sometimes I have attacks of paranoia. I start to believe everyone can read my thoughts and is laughing at them, anticipating my inevitable slip-up. It's not that I think people are psychic or anything, I am _not_ crazy. I don't _think_ people can read me, but sometimes I _believe _they can; no logic behind it, only mistrustful faith. I simply think I am… obvious. That obviousness, the concept of having my weaknesses exposed… it scares me like nothing else ever could. Thinking that just ends up making the attack worse, until I'm just running in circles, waiting for the inevitable end, whatever horrible fate that may be.

I can already feel one of those attacks starting up. I don't know why; they're not logical things, even though they always seem like it at the time. For example, what do I have to worry about right now? Kyo's the one keeping secrets, not me, so technically I'm doing him a favor by helping him out.

"Just tell him hi from me." Uotani's voice jerks me back to the real world.

"Yeah, I will," I manage. "Hey, do you want to talk to Tohru again, or Shigure?"

"That's alright. See ya." With a _click _she's gone, and numbly I put down the dead telephone receiver.

Tired, almost in a daze, I'm aware of my feet carrying me first out of the room, then out of the house. The plan suddenly seems a lot less of a good idea than it did a week ago, or even yesterday. What was I thinking? Like I'm going to be strong enough to outright defy Akito...

…_You're nothing, Yuki…_

…_Weak Yuki. My friend. You can never escape me…_

…IF THE HEAD OF THE FAMILY WANTS YOU, YOU SHOULD BE HONORED! STUPID BOY!…

If I were Kyo, I'd be running now, shouting and swearing. But I'm not Kyo. I'm walking, silently and aimlessly around outside, navigating my way through the thick trees. I don't know how long I do this, but I'm exhausted when I finally sit down and wait for-

_What, _exactly? This doesn't look like the kind of place where anything happens. Just trees, dirt, a few patches of sky visible through the ceiling of leaves overhead. Was it this dark when I left? I don't intend to sleep here or anything, but I _can't _go back yet, not when I don't even feel like I can stand. I lean back, stare into space, and try to think of nothing.

The wind rustles through the leaves pleasantly. It's warm out here, and would almost be nice if not for that annoying pressure inside my head. Not a headache, but a presence. I've already established I'm not crazy, but whatever this thing is, I absolutely hate it, and I'm not the type of person to hate abundantly. I don't even think I hate Akito, and despite what she's done to me, I can't even fathom hating my mother. I know I'm like them in a lot of ways, and I always sort of think – maybe not that irrationally – that they might have treated me differently if I had only figured out what they wanted from me sooner and just done it and got it over with. But this thing is different, totally insatiable. Inside me but not a part of me, and –

Shut off, brain. Just shut off.

"Yuki-kun?" I look up at the voice, eyes snapping wide open. Tohru is standing over me, meekly apologizing, "Sorry. Just Yuki."

"Huh?" I say, not quite fully alert yet.

"Your… your name. You said just to call you Yuki… before."

"Oh. Yes, I remember. Sorry, I've just been spacing out."

"It's nice." Tohru takes a seat on the ground, brushing against me briefly, allowing me to feel her body heat. That clues me in to how cold I am; yet somehow I hadn't noticed before.

"What is?" I say.

"This." She makes a sweeping gesture – not dramatic and Ayame-style, but full of genuine wonder, "The forest. The sky. You," She suddenly blushes embarrassedly and I feel myself doing the same.

"Well, I don't know if I can compete with the wonders of nature, but thanks," I say with a smile.

Tohru laughs. "You want to go back to Shigure's house, Yuki?"

"Are there any other options?"

"Of course!" Tohru exclaims, to my surprise. "We can stay here, or walk around, or go _anywhere _– the whole world is our destination!"

What does that even _mean? _Somehow that enthusiastic promise makes me laugh, as only Tohru can. "What if I want, say, Canada, as my destination?" I raise.

She gazes off into the distance pensively before answering, "I guess we could go there, but not tonight because it would take a while to fly, not to mention buy a plane ticket, and then there are exams coming up-"

"I was only joking," I explain.

"I know," replies Tohru. As though we're on the same wavelength, we both begin walking, not towards the house but back to the path, then following it from there. It leads towards the city, through neighborhoods, by where Tohru used to work. It's dark out, everything illuminated by stars, the moon, and the occasional streetlight once we reach the pavement. Everything sort of glows in the dim lighting, ordinary sights transformed into shadowy shrines.

"We should get back. It's dark and late," I say.

Tohru shakes her head. "It's the winter solstice today, so it gets dark really early."

"Oh, right."

"I've been studying a lot lately."

"I can tell. It's probably obvious I haven't been."

"How come?" inquires Tohru. She looks like she is about to apologize for asking, so I answer her before she has the chance.

"It's been hard for me to concentrate. With… everything going on."

She nods, the stars reflected in her eyes bobbing up and down. "But we'll save Kyo. I made plans with Hatori-san to meet with us tomorrow."

My eyes widen in surprise. "You did? But… how?"

"He came to talk to Shigure yesterday, when you were out. It's weird; it was almost like Shigure scheduled it so that you wouldn't be there…" she trails off. "Anyway, I talked Hatori-san him just before he drove away."

"Did Shigure see you?" I say, unable to completely keep the panic out of my voice.

To my relief, Tohru answers, "No. I don't think he knew I was home at the time." She quickly adds, "But don't worry, I didn't give a lot of details about why I wanted to meet. But I think he understood."

"Yeah, Hatori is quite perceptive. Thanks, Tohru."

"It was no problem! I'm glad I could help Kyo and you, after your hospitality. I can't thank you enough for letting me stay with you over the years, and for your help with studying – I can repay that favor for you now!"

"I would greatly appreciate that." We walk on in silence for a while, just taking in the night. I find myself saying, abruptly and rather childishly, "Tohru? Would you really have gone to Canada with me?

Without the slightest hesitation, Tohru answers, "Of course. I could probably travel anywhere with you, Yuki."

"I'd do the same."

"I didn't know you liked traveling."

"Neither did I."

"It's probably best we head back now."

"Yes."

The night air melds with Tohru's presence, until each breath I inhale is both intoxicating and elucidatory. We are going to get Kyo out. There's simply no way Akito can get away with this. We are going somewhere. And when this is all over… well, I know it's a major cliché, but the possibilities are endless.

Copying what I've seen Kyo do once before, I put my hand over Tohru's. She smiles up at me, and I realize I've grown.

Hand in hand, we walk back,

**Arisa:**

The days pass in a relaxing blur, all blending into each other as I spend them all doing the same few things: mostly swimming occasionally going to the mall with my mom, and often just walking around, getting the feel of Osaka. It's an amazing place. The first snow fell a few days ago, and Mom had been infuriated at how it had left frost damage or even completely killed some of the plants. "Now you won't be able to see all the beauty of Osaka!" she had exclaimed passionately, scaring me a little. But she was quickly over it, only sighing, "At least you got a few unlikely days of warm weather, usually the snow comes earlier. Must be global warming or something."

Contrary to her beliefs, I don't actually believe the snow detracted from the experience – exactly the opposite. Sometimes I'd be in the pool, just relaxing as the jets sprayed me with a warm, underwater massage, and snowflakes would start falling, vanishing as soon as they made contact with any surface. They left a cool tingling as they touched my face or neck, a strange but pleasant contrast to the lingering warmth of the bluish pool water. I don't know if I'll ever entirely be rid of the smell of chlorine.

Maybe it's due to her distaste for snow, but neither my mom nor Tsukasa seems to be the least bit concerned about global warming. Or maybe they just don't think it's caused by pollution – they're the type of people who never discuss anything remotely political or controversial, so I haven't ventured an inquiry. I do know that they own a surprisingly large car – several, in fact, but only one isn't "strictly for business," apparently – designed by Tsukasa's family's company. It's actually not a particularly roomy vehicle, since most of its mass is attributed to the oversized trunk it is for some reason equipped with. Even stranger, we're not allowed to use or even open the compartment due to some mysterious rationale no one has bothered to spell out to me.

Since Mom "can't cook to save her life," (aside from breakfast food, I guess…) Tsukasa is "too busy," and "it just wouldn't be right for someone so young" as me to prepare a meal, every day we pile into the impractical vehicle and drive around until we locate an acceptable restaurant. Once, just to shorten the amount of driving as I was developing motion sickness, I even agreed to go to one of Tsukasa's beloved American restaurants. It was actually pretty good, although afterwards I still ended up feeling ill from the ride back after consuming so much strange food and I had to go lie down when I got back. Tsukasa actually does seem like an okay guy, even if he's sort of boring and rarely around. But hey, it could be worse.

By now I have more or less gotten used to this routine, despite it being such a drastic change from anything in my life up until this point.

Which is why I'm caught completely off-guard when I'm suddenly and unpleasantly torn from a dream early in the morning by hands shaking my shoulders quasi-violently, quickly escalating to truly violently.

Oh man, am I being attacked or something? Wait… who, what, why? Do I have any enemies? I'm sure I'd be able to answer that question normally, but right now I find myself completely unable to maintain a coherent train of thought. Dreams, memories, and bits of movies and things all blend together like a panic smoothie. Okay, really stupid metaphor, but it's the best I can manage at the moment.

Instinctively, I pull away from the hands, throwing the blanket in front of me as a pathetic shield. Now that the shaking's finally ceased, I manage to gasp out, "Wha-!" and crack my gritty eyes open. Standing before me is –

My _mom? _What the _hell? _

"Oh good, you're awake," she says with all the casualty of someone who hadn't just assaulted me. I'm not exaggerating – my shoulders throb where she grabbed them, and years of experience with fighting tell me that there are going to be some ugly, very visible bruises there by tomorrow.

"What are you _doing?_" I demand, not bothering to keep the anger out of my voice.

"I found the application for Osaka academy for you to fill out. The deadline is noon today, so you'd better get on it," she says, as though that explains everything.

"_But what is your problem?" _I shout. The exact opposite of a happy, girly, prince-Yuki-fan-club-scream, but a harsh, uncouth manifestation of my sense of violated trust. Her eyes darken but she doesn't answer. I make some disgusted noise in the back of my throat, then say, "Where's the test?" I just want to get this all over with, then go back to bed. I have no clue what comes after that, but right now I don't care.

"Downstairs, on the kitchen table," she virtually whispers. In the same hushed tone, she adds, "I have to go run some errands, so I'll be out."

I only nod before turning my back on her and exiting the room, forcefully shutting the door behind me. Even so, as I descend the stairs I hear her through the vents, sighing and then sitting down on the bed with a slight creak. Something follows that sounds like hitting, proceeded by what could be sobs, but I doubt it.

I sit down at the table, just staring at the booklet in front of me, somehow unable to convert the large printed letters into anything meaningful. I don't know how long I just stare at it, but when my mom comes down the stairs and heads for the door, I see she doesn't look at all sorry, much less like she's been crying. Only haughty, nose high and walk confident. As she slams the door behind her, I release a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

Although surprisingly relieved, I also suddenly feel sick – not just from the early-morning drama, but with an actual headache and stomachache. I grab one of the many bottles of headache medication off the top of the fridge, chasing down a few pills with a glass of water. Now feeling slightly better, just a placebo effect since the pills couldn't have started working this fast, but reassuring all the same, I rummage around in the fridge for a few containers of leftovers, constructing a mismatched and cold meal out of a curry bun, miso soup, and salty fries.

When I look at the application again, it doesn't seem half as intimidating, but remains extremely odd. It starts off straightforward, and I fill in my name, birthdate, and gender in the specified blanks. Then questions like **"Do you have any violent tendencies? If so, please specify" **start popping up. I put a checkmark in the _No _box, even though it's probably not exactly the truth, and leave the several "specification" lines blank.

"Do you have any learning disabilities? If so, please specify."

Again, I mark the _No _box.

"Have you had ever problems with addiction? If so, have you undergone any treatment? Please specify."

Well, technically I _have _had problems with addiction, but since they weren't my addictions I again put _No. _

The test continues in this fashion, bombarding me with discomforting questions about everything from my mental state to my living arrangements, some of which hit far too close to home.

"**Have you ever been physically injured by a family member or guardian?" **

Not until today I haven't. I hesitate, pen hovering over the two boxes, shaking a bit in the air. I don't think she meant it, and it was probably a one-time thing. Besides, did that really count as abuse? I'm strong enough to defend myself if she tries it again, it was just because I was unconscious that I was so helpless this time. It won't happen again. Besides, she's my mom, I can't just go get her in trouble over a bad day. It just won't happen. I won't let her. She won't let herself. It can't happen again. I mean, come on, who gets abused by their _mom? _

A drop of glistening ebony ink falls from the tip of the pen into the _No _square, making my decision for me.

"**Have any of your family members or guardians ever had problems with addiction that interfered in their ability to care for you?" **

I'm surprised that's actually a question; for some reason I burst out laughing, knowing I must seem completely psychotic.

I lie on that question too.

When I'm done the booklet, I look it over and see I've marked every single _No _box. That's not right – no one will believe something that perfect, and that might prompt the school administration to pry into my past. I carefully apply some whiteout and change my answers to _Yes _for a few questions – **"Have you ever felt depressed?" "Have you ever been extremely stressed?" "Have you ever consumed alcohol?" "Have you ever gone three or more days without sleep?" **Come on, who hasn't done those things? I look my answers over again, pausing at **"Have you ever been in trouble with the law?" **They'll be looking into that anyway, and if I lie they'll definitely refuse to let me in. I meticulously whiteout my _No _and change it to _Yes, _then specify that it was over a minor incident, which is true, though it's probably just luck that I never was in trouble for something bigger.

I'm completely drained by the time I finish. What kind of questions were those? It was like a psychiatric evaluation, or some kind of interrogation. I lift up the booklet, revealing another booklet underneath.

_No!_ I think with useless defiance. What more could they give me to do after that mental torture?

For once, I'm overjoyed to see math. It's easy too, at least to start with, but even the more difficult questions are a relief compared to those yes or no atrocities. I can feel my brain switching gears, from stressed out, hyper-emotionality to calm and logical. Perfect.

It takes a few hours to get the test done, but I'm hardly aware of the time slipping by. I'm doing something productive after that long stretch of laziness, and it feels great. I think I manage to do really well too; even the difficult questions just seem to click. I check my answers just in case before I lean back and proudly look down at the pages spread out on the table beside empty Styrofoam cartons of food.

Now what? I have the house to myself, complete freedom to do whatever I want.

What I want is to go back to bed.

That's exactly what I do, and soon I'm back in my room with the covers pulled over me, feeling that irrational, childish sense of security. Or perhaps no longer so irrational and childish; I've locked the door.

I want to finish that dream I was having before. I've forgotten what it was about, as I always do when I'm jolted out of sleep suddenly, but I do remember it was a good dream, and that's enough for me.

I am embracing Kyo, holding on to him for dear life. _"You haven't transformed!" _I say.

Kyo smiles. _"Of course not. We both know who I am." _

"_And who is that?"_

"_You know that, Arisa."_

"_Yes, I do. But I love the way you say it."_

Sometime through it all I hear the doorknob rattle briefly. But that might just be part of the dream.

**Hatori:**

"Honda-kun's friend, right?" I address the goth-looking girl who has materialized on my doorstep.

"Yes. My name is Saki Hanajima. And I trust you are Hatori Sohma?"

"Yes."

She nods knowingly. "It is quite obvious. Your waves are good-natured, the righteous waves of any true healer. With the characteristic Sohma quality: a bizarre, unearthly tinge."

I can't help thinking that she seems a great deal more unearthly than I have ever considered myself to be.

"I mean that in a good way, of course," she amends.

"Honda-kun isn't here yet," I say.

The goth girl – Hanajima-kun – replies, "It is not her I seek. I have come to speak with you."

"Come in," I offer, not knowing what else to say. She quickly makes herself at home, taking a seat at my table without my needing to ask her.

I offer her a cup of tea, and she accepts. "It's good," she tells me in her deep, distant way. It takes be a moment to register that she is talking about the tea.

"Good waves?" I joke.

She smiles. "I haven't yet learned to pick up waves from inanimate objects. But the taste is lovely." I am unsure of whether that was a joke on her part as well, but I smile back, quite mystified.

"Is there a specific reason you've come?" I say, as politely as possible.

"Yes, in fact. I was wondering if we could discuss the issue revolving around Kyo-kun, as well as your upcoming meeting with Tohru-chan."

I almost drop my own teacup as every one of my muscles freezes up, seemingly including my heart, though as a doctor of medicine I know that to be highly unlikely. "How much do you know?" I ask, lowering my voice for no other reason than basic suspicion. This is not the kind of thing often discussed, even within the insiders of the Sohma family. To openly talk about it with an outsider is unthinkable.

"Everything."

I remind myself to stay calm– "everything" is a typical answer, anyone who thinks they know the full story would say that. Perhaps someone gave her an alibi.

Somehow I can't bring myself to believe that. Saki Hanajima is a definite enigma, and I doubt even science could explain her state. I find myself believing that maybe, possibly, probably, she really does know everything; at least about this issue, and maybe even a few other elusive truths of the universe as well.

She adds, "Except how you plan to react to what is going on."

I take a seat, expecting this will be a long conversation. "You know where Kyo is right now."

She answers without hesitation, confirming my worst suspicions. "Imprisoned. By the head of your family, Akito Sohma-san."

"Do you know why?"

Again, no hesitation. "He was born as the cat from the Chinese zodiac. This is considered a curse within the Sohma family, although I confess the reasons behind this escape me."

I have no reasons to give her, other than Sohma legends and stories, a room of crumbling records, and old fears. Mainly, the cat is a scapegoat, an unlikely superstition within another unlikely, but true myth. So rather than offer her an explanation at this moment, I ask, "Do you know what I am required to do to outsiders who know of the curse?"

"Yes. You are the one who is responsible for expunging all memory of the indiscretion."

"If you knew I would have to do that to you, why did you come here?" I slowly articulate, not because I believe she is dilatory to understand things, quite the opposite, but because it just doesn't make sense to _me. _

"I believe stopping what is going on and preventing it from happening again is of greater importance than my own memory of the incident. I could not stand to be burdened with the knowledge that I had done nothing. Besides, I somehow doubt that you will do it."

So do I, I apprehend with a start. I say, "And what _would_ you advise me to do?"

"I think first of all you should allow Kyo to return to his life. I am interested as to how you justify your letting this happen in the first place, as it is in obvious violation to your Hippocratic oath." I wonder if she rehearsed this speech prior to coming here.

"The issue is… complicated. I doubt an outsider like you would be able to fully grasp it…"

"Oh? Then I shall be even more interested to hear your explanation."

"Akito is the Jade Emperor. It is wrong to defy him."

"Religious motivations, then."

"More akin to tradition."

"Even so, do you think the Jade Emperor would forgive you for allowing him to get away with such an immoral act?" raised Hanajima.

"Philosophy," I recognize.

"More akin to logic."

I try another tactic. "Akito is dying. If he does not see it fit to release Kyo-kun soon, his death will not allow him to keep the boy trapped any longer."

"Do you really believe that?" She fixes me with a piercing, dark gaze. "From my understanding, it is tradition to keep the cat imprisoned all his life."

"It is."

"Ah." She looks at me understandingly. "Your own form of passive activism. You are an oxymoron, Hatori-san."

"'True superstition' is also an oxymoron," I say.

"Perhaps, although not all superstitions are true, you must realize. The ones that are true are no longer superstitions, are they? Merely phenomena science has yet to provide an explanation to. On the other hand, I cannot think of a single convincing explanation to let you keep Kyo-kun in such an unhealthy situation."

"I regularly go to check on him, make sure he is healthy. He is. And I try to convince Akito to put a stop to this madness."

"Though not very doggedly, as we can see what occurred the last time you really attempted to persuade him of something." I wince, but she continues, "You insist he is healthy. Perhaps physically, though it is doubtful that he will remain so for long due to his sudden withdrawal from all physical activity. Emotionally and spiritually, he is definitely unwell. His waves are in extreme chaos, disturbing the natural order of things. The animals, particularly the cats within the vicinity, have been behaving in extremely troubling ways. Do you watch the news?"

I do, and I know exactly what she is talking about. Whenever there is a slow news day, it has in the last few weeks become commonplace to report on cases of cats behaving bizarrely; normally tame animals lashing out at their owners, or felines congregating at night, not to fight or mate but simply to howl unrelentingly. I even saw an interview with a man who claimed it signified the coming of the apocalypse, though as a medical professional, I can safely say his sanity is in doubt. Nevertheless, this could be the basis for the legends within the Sohma family of the cat being a wicked, aggressive demon.

Without waiting for an answer, she simply remarks, "I hope your time with Akito has not driven you to become cynical of your ability to make things better, Hatori-san."

"Why are you involving yourself in all this?" I do honestly not comprehend this girl and her motives.

"Because Tohru-chan has become involved, and I will never allow anyone do anything to harm her. I hope you realize I am serious."

"I do."

"Then I will be on my way. I thank you for your hospitality and wonderful tea. Our debate was also quite enjoyable – I hope we are able to talk again under more agreeable circumstances."

"As do I."

"You will not mention this to Tohru-chan?"

"I won't."

"Thank you once again."

With that she is gone, as suddenly as she appeared.

I slump down in a chair, staring dazedly out the window like someone far older than I. Why didn't I erase her memory? I had so many chances, and someone like her shouldn't be running around with incriminating knowledge and no understanding of the reasons behind the inner working of the Sohma family. I take a long drawl from my tea, draining the cup until only a few soggy green leaves remain.

If I could read tealeaves, I wonder if these would provide any guidance.

Was she really so clueless in understanding the Sohma family? Her arguments were naïve, predictable… things I've contemplated and convinced myself out of countless times before. But her unlikely confidence and rectitude had wiped all convincing counterarguments from my brain.

Or perhaps those counterarguments had merely been convincing to myself, though they no longer seem to hold any weight.

I set about tidying up the house, arranging things for when Yuki and Honda-kun, then later Akito-sama, and yet later Ayame, come to visit. My thoughts are occupied all the while by legends, traditions, and tealeaves.


	20. Enter The Snake

My Fault  
Part 3  
Chapter 20  
Enter The Snake

**  
Ayame:**

"Could you please repeat that one more time?" she requests, speaking very slowly and making the calm down motion with her hands.

I sigh inwardly, but smile at her. I must be polite and patient with people such as her, who obviously lack my exceptional verbal cleverness and agility. Why, sometimes I feel I must repeat things twenty times, and still no one is able to comprehend my meaning!

So, careful to articulate slowly and clearly, and of course phrasing my sentences in the simplest manner possible, I clarify, "Well, I, Ayame Sohma – but you may call me The King, a name my admirers have bestowed on me and, not to sound vain, I feel it captures my essence fairly accurately, but alas, I digress – arrived at this shop approximately fifteen minutes ago. I know, you are probably enthralled in the throes of suspense as to what exactly was my motivation for coming here, and I shall come to that in good time, but before that, I must address a matter of critical importance. As I entered this place, my eyes happened upon… a sign.

"My emerald orbs" (remembering my audience, I add " I refer to my eyes, of course") "widened with shock, like a vast ocean reflecting a mysteriously green sky in the early morning while in the background, fig trees waft in the almost innocent breeze that signals the coming of a tornado. My feet froze; indeed my entire body froze up like the hopeful snow that begins to melt at the first sign of spring, only to be refrozen into a graceful but cold monument to the bitter cruelty of the slushy authority of nature. My hair even lost its bounce."

I pause, paying a moment of respect to the tragic incident. Of course, I quickly continue – it would be unspeakably rude to leave this poor woman in suspense, as she is obviously utterly beguiled by my riveting – albeit terrifying – recollection. Of course, who wouldn't be? When you are as talented at capturing attention as I am, one learns to recognize the signs of awestruck addressees – eyes glaze over as they stare off into the distance, obviously visualizing my incredible metaphors, they fiddle with their hands, examine their fingernails, checking if they are as expertly cared for as mine, and they rock back and forth on their feet, probably not even aware they are doing so. Why, you ask? The answer is simple psychology: with my unique, ahead-of-its-time view of the world, a person hearing tell of it simply cannot wait to get away from the conversation and experience what I speak of for themselves, see the world through my point of view, which they now know more that they had ever hoped to know about!

My conversation partner is exhibiting every single one of the indications. I silently congratulate myself on being so fascinating.

I enunciate, "I… appear to have lost my train of thought."

For a brief moment I think I hear a whispered "Thank heavens," but then I realize what I really heard was, of course, "thinking bins," because with all the insight I freely share, one has to sort the thoughts out into various mental storage units, or "thinking bins." You'd be surprised how many people use the term.

"You were talking about a sign you saw," she reminds me.

"Ah, of course! I was referring to that travesty of a sign you have hanging in the front of your shop, like a beacon for everything I stand against!" I exclaim passionately.

She lets out a long breath, obviously exhausted by the mental drain of sustaining a conversation with me. Haa-san told me that one time, that I'm mentally draining to be around. How kind of him! He is not one to pay compliments lightly, you know. When Gure asked him what he thought of his book, Haa-san began "It was…" and then he paused for a very long time, obviously searching for the perfect adjective, before settling on, "interesting." How very like him to think things over so deeply, analyzing all their aspects. Why, I read (okay, skimmed. Alas, a long attention span is not one of my many qualities. I suppose I cannot be skilled at absolutely everything) Gure's book, and it was indeed interesting! Why, it was minimalism at its bulkiest. Especially the part where the high school students had their memories wiped with moist towlettes, the best for memory-wiping, of course.

I asked Gure where he found his inspiration, and he informed me he based it on things he'd experienced in real life (and scenes from movies, but I'm not supposed to talk about that because taking scenes from movies is apparently a big no-no in the writer world…), in order to give it his unique perspective and flavor. (writer-talk is so odd!) Since then, I have been mentally narrating everything as it happens. I'm rather compulsive about it, you might say. Don't get me wrong, it is enjoyable, but there are times I wish I could simply blank my mind.

If I were writing a novel utilizing my unique perspective, I would certainly find a way to incorporate the scene that is unfolding right at this very moment. Visualize this: A high class restaurant. The neighborhood is glamorous and full of crime. The glamorous part is the wedding part in which we dress up in rather uncomfortable and hot but pretty things (did I mention I designed them?) and listen to strangers talk about love. The full of crime part is myriad sirens throughout the night and seeing a shady-looking (but impeccably dressed and disheveled, but in a romantic way) fellow trying to shoplift a clump of ballroom gowns.

Now visualize the exact opposite of that (although come to think of it, I like the scene I just described much better, and may use that instead. Theoretically speaking, of course). I am in one of those stores that sells wood and power tools. Yes, yes, how very unlike me, I know. Still, I am here for a reason, and perhaps when dear brother Yuki sees the sacrifice I have made for the sake of our brotherly bonding, he will realize how serious I am in my quest to gain his respect and adoration. Dramatic music shall begin playing from seemingly nowhere, and we shall embrace in a brotherly manner.

Alas, I'm getting ahead of myself again.

"What sign are you talking about, exactly?" the saleswoman repeats. I realize she has been asking me for some time.

Putting my dramatic monologue on hold for the sake of relieving her of the incredible suspense (how generous of me, I know) I announce, voice lowered, "It said: 'No Frills.'"

She blinks. "What?"

"'No Frills!' Do you realize how offensive that is?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me."

"Do you have any idea how many people like frilly things? Why, for some it may be their sole purpose in coming to this establishment!"

"With all due respect sir, I highly doubt that." I notice she is gritting her teeth. How odd. Perhaps she has a jaw problem. "What would they look for here, a frilly drill press?"

"Exactly." I am pleased she is finally seeing my point. "Where else would one go to if one where seeking such a thing? Why, thousands of customers just like me may cease to come here!"

"Oh no, we couldn't have that," she replies tonelessly. She clearly does not have as an adept control and understanding of the vocal tones as I do.

"Think of the things that wouldn't be possible if a person was unable to purchase a frilly drill press! How are they going to make wooden doilies now?" I query.

"I have honestly no idea. Oh look, my coworker is finally here! Why don't you go tell her your fascinating opinions?"

"Although in any other instance I would be thrilled to do so, I am afraid I have but a few minutes left to spend in this… lovely place."

"Okay, fine. Just tell me what you want and go. Please?"

Gasp, how rude! Why did she just tell me to go, after the enlightening discussion we were having? I decide to let it slide – she did call my opinions fascinating, after all, and combined with the "please" she tacked onto that sentence, it balances out. "Do you have some sort of device which can be used to cut through things?" I ask.

"You mean like a saw?"

"I'm not sure. Can those cut through metal bars?"

She opens her mouth as though to say something, but stops half-way through. After a long pause, she says, "It depends what kind you get. Here, I'll show you which ones would work for your… er, purpose."

She leads me to an aisle of shiny metal contraptions with sharp teeth. She reaches for a large, frightening looking implement, then stops and looks at me. Her eyes narrow and I follow her line of sight to my arms, which are waving around dramatically, as always. I mean, please, how is one expected to achieve the full effect of communication without a wide variety of passionate motions?

Her hand settles on a significantly smaller strange-looking instrument and she hands it to me. I turn it over in my hands, examining the alien technology. It's made of blue and black plastic, oval-shaped and no larger than the palm of my hand, and weighs about as much as an apple.

"Hmm? What exactly is this?" I ask.

"It's the latest in technology. You snap it open like this, see? The blade is extremely durable and lightweight."

I don't mention that I have no need for it to be durable; I am assuming my brother's jailbreak operation is a one-time stunt. If it is not, I fear I shall have to show him some brotherly discipline. Unless, of course, it's for a noble cause, in which case perhaps I shall supply him with glamorously chic rebel clothing (mental note: begin sketches for design, could bring BIG boost in business). At least, this being the latest in technology, it should suffice for his purposes, whatever those may be.

I don't tell her that. I don't say anything. I just nod.

.-.-.-.-

I stand in front of the door to Shigure's house, prepared to face my brother and bestow upon him my gift. I know he will be tremendously thankful and our brotherly bond shall be exponentially strengthened. The sun is shining with vivid bright light and the world is sparkling. With my long shiny hair and dazzling lilac robe, I feel very much a part of this sparkling universe.

Who knows what you're really thinking underneath your thoughts, saying beneath your words? Do even you know what is truly going on in your head? Or can telling yourself something over and over genuinely convince you it is the sole truth?

Shigure told me that sometimes narrators lie. These are called unreliable narrators. The things they say to the readers, the other characters, themselves… it's all lies. Or at least some of it, and you may never know how much. Sometimes the characters can even make themselves believe the things they are saying.

I don't want to lie anymore. Haari tells me that the only way to form a real relationship with a person, to close the rift once and for all, is to be honest. I suppose I have to start sometime, even if it's already too late. I was an unreliable brother. Maybe it's only fitting that I was an unreliable narrator as well. I even used to convince myself I never had a brother.

I stand in front of the door to Shigure's house, knowing I have to face my brother, just another totally inadequate request for forgiveness. A strange gift I know nothing about sits comfortably in my pocket. I can only hope he will accept it. The sun stings my eyes, and the world is dry but cold. My hair is blowing everywhere and I am dressed, as always, in fashions of my own making, the style that always gets a reaction. Because that is who I am, and it shall never change.

Even when I feel so far removed from this world.

Even now.

The door opens and all I can say is –

**Yuki:**

I got a letter today. It wasn't meant for me. I read it anyway.

**"Kyo. Hey. It's me. Well, you probably already figured that out  
from the envelope. Anyways… just wanted to know what's  
up. I've been trying to get in contact with you. I called  
your house a few times, but you were never there and I  
asked you to call me back… maybe  
you didn't get my message? Did Yuki and Tohru  
forget to tell you or something? I mean, I can see  
Yuki doing that (is it just me or does he seem sorta  
distracted all the time?) but I think Tohru would  
remember…**

**  
sorry. I just read over what I wrote and it sounds so  
accusatory. I don't mean it that way. It's just that  
I'm a bit freaked out to tell the truth.  
Did something happen?  
It's like you've disappeared off the Earth or  
something. No offense.  
Well, if you're reading this, here's what's going on in my life.  
Started school again. I'm going to Osaka Academy  
now. the work is really easy, it's actually kind of  
weird. The teachers are nice, all though some of  
them are the weird kind of nice, I think. Like they  
feel sorry for us or something. But maybe I'm just being  
paranoid. I guess I'll tell you about my friends now  
(this feels like one of those penpal letters they made  
us write in elementary school). **

**There's a girl in my class named Gin. She's nice,  
always seems sort of nervous. She reminds me  
of Tohru, but at the same time she's completely  
different. I don't know how to explain it. When you know  
both of them, you get the feeling they've been through  
a lot. You learn to recognize it I guess. But with Gin…  
it just seems like it's closer to the surface. That she's  
never really happy. I sound partronizing, I'm not a  
psychologist. I don't know. but that's the best I can  
say it. My other friend here is Naomi, who everyone  
calls Mikkun. She's very smart, but people think  
she is strange because she doesn't talk much,  
and when she does it is usually about video  
games or outer space. There is not really much else  
she is interested in. I get the impression some people  
are afraid of her. I think the world would be a better  
place if people weren't so scared of what they don't  
understand. It would for us at least, huh?**

**  
My parents. Well, my mom and Tsukasa. I probably  
should have mentioned them first, since they are  
the reason I came here. Tsukasa is my stepfather  
or something like that I guess. He's not married to  
my mom. I think he's also a lot younger. He grew up  
in America, and you can tell. He only talks about  
American things. At first it pissed me off but now  
that I know him better I can basically ignore him.  
he's not home that much. My mom says he works  
hard, and I find that hard to believe but I guess  
it's her business. She's also very young. She's hard  
to describe. For the most part she's been really nice,  
but then without warning she freaked out at me. I  
won't go into details, because I'm terrible at writing  
things out and a letter just seems too… impersonal? No,  
that's not it. Permanent. Like if I write something and  
regret it, there's nothing I can do about it later. So anyway,  
things have been awkward between us since then,  
but I can tell she's trying to make up for it. **

**  
there's nothing more I can think of to say. **

**  
bye**

**  
i love you**

**  
Arisa**

"Dear brother Yuki!" 

I flinch, hearing the words echoing loudly through the house all the way from my room.

"Oh, I see you're not him. But you do resemble him, when he was younger."

Like he'd know.

I carefully fold the piece of paper before sticking it in the pocket of my chinos. Slightly dizzy, (the ceiling looks to be rotating very slowly) I head towards my brother's voice. He is standing in the doorway, talking with – well, to – Megumi. "Ayame," I say, "do come in," even though he's clearly already invited himself to do just that.

Nevertheless, he bounces about gleefully upon hearing me. "Yuki-kun! How delightful it is to see you! It has been far too long."

"Has it?" I say.

A sad look must have taken a wrong turn somewhere because it somehow ends up on my brother's face. "Yes. It has." As though realizing its mistake, the expression is gone as suddenly as it appeared. "I have taken the liberty of procuring a suspenseful spy gadget for use in your escapades, as well as this cassette of suspenseful spy music." Seemingly out of nowhere, he somehow produces a boom box, pressing a button down with a long pale finger ending in a long silver-painted fingernail.

Loud instrumental music instantaneously begins slamming through the house. I can hear dishes clattering in the cupboards and I feel the bass through my socks, like the sound is coming out of the floor or from inside of me or both. "Turn it off!" I scream, desperate to be heard over the ruckus.

Ayame obliges. "Well?" he says, tilting his head quizzically.

"Well what?" I reply.

"What do you think of my gift, of course? Feel free to shower me with gratitude – it's healthy to let your emotions out, you know."

"Does wanting to throw you out of the house qualify as an emotion?"

"Ah, I see you are starting to take after Kyon. No wonder you are attempting this rescue; without your newfound confidence, you would never have dared defy Akito-san."

I can't think of anything to say for a long time. It's like my brain's been paralyzed. Finally I manage the brilliant retort of, "W-what? How do you know about that?" I sit down.

Before either my brother or myself have a chance to say any more, we are greeted by the sound two pairs of sandaled feet coming down the stairs. "Ayame-san, welcome! Please make yourself at home!" Tohru greets him with a wide, sincere smile, even though it's obvious he's already made himself at home.

"Hello," acknowledges Hanajima with a nod in our direction.

"What bring you here, Ayame-san?" says Tohru, serving him a cup of tea she's brought from the kitchen. In a matter of seconds we are all gathered around the table, each with our own cup of the warm liquid.

Ayame glances at me hesitantly, the only bit of restraint I've ever seen him manage.

"It's alright, they know about Kyo," I say, hoping I will not regret this. "You, on the other hand - we have absolutely no clue about your place in the matter."

He looks hurt. "Yuki, I'm your brother. And if one of your friends is in trouble" – I don't bother to correct him. Kyo's not a friend, but I don't know what else I could refer to him as – "I want to be there to help out."

"And how exactly do you plan to do that?" I ask. Somehow this conversation is making me feel cruel, and I don't like the feeling one bit. As much as I've been angry with my brother, I don't think I'm meant to be the dominant one in a conversation. "And how did you even find out about this?" I add.

"Dear brother, it was a matter of common sense."

"Since when have you had anything remotely resembling that?"

He sighs. "If something were to happen to one of my friends, I would do that same. Why, I would gladly risk my life for anyone in this room!" His eyes land on Hanajima. "Wait, I don't know you. I'm sure you're a lovely person, but about the life-risking-"

"Get back on topic!" I exclaim.

"Yes, please tell us, Ayame-san!" urges Tohru.

"Very well. As I was saying, it was simply a matter of course. Plus, Hatori –"

"He told you? I should have known better than to trust him!" I say.

Tohru cuts in, "Wait, Yuki, I'm sure Hatori-san wouldn't do anything to hurt us - he agreed to help. If he told Ayame-san it must be for a reason."

"He didn't tell me," Ayame says, very seriously. "Don't blame Ha-san for the things I do on my own accord. He's at no fault."

"Then how do you know?" I say.

"Ha-san and I have a very close relationship-"

"Not this again!" I interject.

"No, listen to me. He didn't tell me, but I could just tell something was up. I looked into it, and I reasoned it out. I may be a lot of things, but I'm not stupid, Yuki-kun."

"I know," I say quietly. Than I laugh. I don't know why. I just do. "Okay, maybe this is a terrible decision on my part, but I'm going to trust you."

"Thank you."

"So, how exactly do you plan to help?"

"Planning, of course. With the hours a day I devote to analyzing the media-"

"By which you mean, 'watching Fashion TV,'" I supply.

"And reading Fashion Magazine. Anyway, I have come up with the perfect plan."

"Does it involve outfits you design?"

"No. Well, yes, technically-"

"I'm out."

"No, I've designed these to suit your personality! They're subtle, like you prefer, but they'll hide your identity perfectly."

"Wait, hide?" I exclaim.

He goes solemn again, but it's Hanajima who says, "Yes, from what I've seen you won't be safe here, especially not with the identity you have now. The Sohma family influence goes far and deep."

"Oh, Yuki!" Tohru suddenly hugs me, and the tears in her eyes cause a sudden wave of guilt to sweep over me. I put my arms around her in a pathetic attempt to comfort her before with a pop! and a cloud of smoke I've transformed.

I look down at my paws, then up at the suddenly huge faces all around me, all looking to me expectantly. Me; this tiny, insignificant person turned tiny, insignificant rat. "Okay," I say. "Tell me your plan."

.-.-.-

I'm running. Fishing my cell phone out of my pocket, I begin to dial. It's a surprisingly and frustratingly difficult task; I've almost never had much occasion to use the thing before, and my fingers stumble over the unfamiliar buttons. Even so, I'm amazed I remember the number I'd seen on the caller ID display during my last telephone conversation. Please pick up.

Ring… ring… ri-

"Yo?"

"Uotani-san… it's Yuki Sohma."

"Prince? 'sup, you okay?"

I realize how hard I'm breathing, my pathetic lungs demanding more air than they can take in. Damn asthma. "Yeah," I puff, "fine. I need your help."

"That contradicts, but whatever. What ya need?"

"Is your motorcycle still here?"

"Sure. Not like they'd let me take it on the plane, and it's got too much sentimental value to try and hock-"

"Great," I interrupt. "Listen, can I use it? Don't ask why, just believe me it's important. I don't have time to explain."

Silence on the other end. "I…" she trails off. I can tell she's surprised by my forwardness.

"Do you trust me? Do you, Uotani-san? Because… this might be the most important thing I've ever done. Or attempted, at least."

Return of the Awkward Silence. Then: "Yeah. Yeah, I trust you, Prince. You know you need a license to ride the thing, right?"

"I have one."

"…I guess there's a lot I don't know about you."

"Hopefully."

"You know where my apartment is?"

"Uh huh. I'm running there now."

"Turn around. Go to the convenience story parking lot, I've been using it for the free space so I don't have to pay for the apartment garage. My bike's the one with the red butterfly painted on the side."

"Okay. Where's the key?"

"Under the seat. There's a hidden compartment."

"But," I say, noticing the old familiar panic starting to blossom in my chest, "couldn't anyone who knew the model of motorcycle have found the key and stolen it?"

"You think anyone would steal Arisa Uotani's bike?"

"No," I say carefully, "I don't think anyone would."

"When you have the chance, you'd better tell me what's up with all this."

"I will. I promise you."

"Well then, talk to ya later, Prince."

"My name is Yuki."

There's something in her voice I can't recognize. "Right. Good luck, man. Yuki."

"Thanks."

It's only after I've hung up, found the motorcycle untouched as promised, and am feeling the cool wind whip past me as the vehicle glides over the dark asphalt that I recognize the unknown quality in her voice. It's the same one that's present when my brother is around Hatori.

It was respect.

The cell phone flies from my pocket as my coat billows behind me. I don't look, but I hear the phone shatter. Several lighter clattering sound follow, notifying me that fragments of electronic software must be going everywhere, exploding in a haphazard starburst.

That's okay, it's served its purpose.

But I am sorry to litter.

.-.-.-

Once I'm off the paved road and onto the bare path, the ride becomes considerably less smooth. It's true I have a license to use the thing – don't ask, the summer heat and loneliness make people do crazy things sometimes, and I've always been good at taking tests – but I've never actually ridden one for any distance, and it's harder to hold on than I would have thought. Dust sprays up not only behind me but also directly in my face, and my asthmatic lungs are not pleased. Thankfully the ride is short and the engine is quiet, so I park the getaway vehicle behind a bush, a few meters away from Kyo's room, and begin silently lurking forward.

I can hear voices, but am unable to make out the words. A sickly, androgynous voice that can only belong to Akito; A confident, male voice – Shigure. Then – "Oh, won't you stay longer?" A louder male voice. Hatori. A signal. I've got to move fast. There is a brief silence and my heart seems to stop until the chatter suddenly resumes and I let out a breath I didn't realize I've been holding.

Hatori refused to let us use his car for reasons he wouldn't specify, but at this moment I am infinitely grateful for his small part in this conspiracy – he found out the dates when Akito and Shigure would conduct their mysterious frequent meetings and shared it with us. For someone who is so trusted by Akito, and someone who has been hurt so badly by the man, this is an incredible risk to take.

I slide a clammy hand into one of the pockets of my pants, which were thankfully more secure than my jacket pockets, and withdraw the small blue sphere my brother gave me. I fiddle with the miniscule clasp, causing a thin metallic blade to slide out. I know hardly more about these things than my brother, but glinting in the light of the high afternoon sun, the thing looks undeniably dangerously sharp.

"Kyo," I whisper as I begin to file away at the bars. It's almost disconcerting how quickly it works – file… file… file… and already one bar is halfway done.

"Mmmmn," someone groans from inside the room. Kyo, of course.

"Hey," I say. "I told you I'd come, and now I'm here."

"Yuki?"

"Who else?" One bar done…

His face appears in the small window, and his appearance is startling. Dark blotches adorn the space under both his suddenly-dull eyes, a strange and unhealthy contrast to his skin, which is now several impossible shades paler than my own. His vibrant orange hair forms an unwashed, uncombed, oily mess atop his head. "What are you doing here?" he asks.

"Getting you out, of course."

"Oh."

I continue sawing and he watches wordlessly. Finally he says, "Try bending the bars over when you're done one half. It will go faster." I'm unbelievably thankful to hear him speak, even if it's just a few words, because it shows he still has some drive to escape, to live. What did Akito do to him?

I do as Kyo says and see he's right, and from there on the job goes much faster.

Hopefully this is fast enough…

Three bars bent over and one sawed clean off, a layer of cold sweat has broken out all over my body. "…go check on the Cat," someone says from inside the house.

"Won't you wait a little longer?"

"Hatori, why are you talking so loudly?"

"Am I? My apologies, my ears must be plugged. But tell me about this errand you sent Ayame on."

Another silence, but I can almost hear Akito looking Hatori over suspiciously. "Just a few more bars," I say, more to reassure myself than for Kyo's benefit.

"No," says Kyo.

"What?" I say, confused.

"This is enough. I can get through this."

I look at him like he's gone crazy, and for all I know he has, being locked away like this and kept starved both for food and for human contact.

Again, he says, "This space is big enough. Now help me get through."

Reluctantly I oblige, noticing he's surprisingly easy to lift as I help him through the narrow opening. Like he said, he fits through, but only because his time here has made him horrifyingly thin. I can see the outline of his ribs through the dirty t-shirt he is wearing. It's been just over a month… or maybe closer to two months? How much damage could have been done to him physically in this time? Not to mention psychologically…

"Come on," I say as he runs his fingers over the bark of a tree, as though he can't believe it's really there. He follows me on shaky legs towards the motorcycle.

"Hold on," I say as I start up the engine, and he nods.

I hold on to the handlebars of the quaking machine.

He holds on to me with shivering hands around my waist.

The ground moves under us and the cool wind chills us as it flies past. The cloudless blue sky seems unbelievably huge. The entire world seems unbelievably huge.

Miraculously, we all hold on.

.-.-.-

**Author's Note: Okay guys, what's up? Last chapter got no reviews whatsoever, a first for this fic, which makes me think that A) Nobody bothered to read it or B) It was so OOC/offensive/terrible that everybody was too shocked to click the review box. I've been trying to take this fic in a more experimental direction, with less filler, and maybe that's not going over well? If no one is reading this, I may discontinue this story. Please take the time to give feedback, even a few words makes my day and I am always honored to know that someone has taken the time to read my writing. I don't have the greatest self-esteem, so no feedback equals bad writing in my mind. But I can take critisism, and if it's constructive I find it extremely useful and I always take it into account when writing future chapters. **

**Now that I've pretty much begged you, would it be too much trouble to click the "Submit Review" button under this text?**


	21. Butterflies, Graveyards, and Boats

My Fault

Part 3

Chapter 21

Butterflies, Graveyards, and Boats

Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed. I am really, really grateful. Seriously, you guys are what keeps me going. I would have posted this a few days ago, but the Internet has been down. Please don't be angry about the wait.

A huge thank-you goes out to w, Anonymous Human, Aliki, cajun-beauty, and sasuke5010.

**Yuki:**

"Yuki."

"Yeah?"

"Do you even know where we're going?"

It's hard to know how long we've been riding or how far we've gone. The landscape is utterly unremarkable – or it is to me, at least. Afraid to take my eyes off the road for even a second, all I see is a seemingly endless grey-black street scrolling past. The air is thick with the smells of the city, oily and polluted. I can no longer hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears, for it's been replaced by the whoosh of air and the occasional crunch of gravel, but the adrenaline rush keeps me from dropping my guard for even a second. Each time a car of cyclist passes, my ears prick up and my spine stiffens. _This time it's Akito. They've finally found us. It's got to be him this time. _But it never is.

"My brother gave me a list of places to go. He says they're safe."

Kyo doesn't reply, not even a disdainful snort at the mention of Ayame. I find myself wishing, longing to hear him say, _You're trusting that freak with our safety? Damn rat, what were you thinking? _At the same time, I know if he does say that, I'll reply, _You don't know the whole story, stay out of it. Stupid cat, don't talk to me. I need to concentrate. _Then I'll regret my words.

I want him to talk just so I can tell him to shut up just so I can regret it. What is wrong with me?

"It's getting dark, Ayame said there would be a hotel if we turn left at the fork it the road. Do you see one?"

"No."

Oh man, did I take a wrong turn? I thought I was just supposed to go straight, did I mess up somehow? I should have paid more attention-

"Wait, yeah. Up ahead, on the horizon – it splits off. And there's a building."

Well, here we go.

-.-.-.

The hotel Ayame has chosen for us is the exact opposite of what I would expect from him. Not the least bit superfluous, this is as Spartan as accommodations come. The room is equipped with a battered tatami mat and a moth-eaten sofa. There are no windows and a large proportion of the lights are flickering to the point of being useless. At least it's clean. Business has been bad ever since his father passed away, the owner tells us, though we didn't ask. I tell him I am sorry for his loss and he looks surprised before thanking me for my kindness.

Once he's left, I examine the small bundle of supplies Ayame gave me before I departed, and which I'd stored in the hidden compartment of the motorcycle, for the first time. Ayame has wrapped the entire thing in a frayed plaid handkerchief - perhaps he is dramatizing this "running away" thing after all – and when I unfold it, various objects tumble out onto the floor. I examine them as I pick them up; dark-blue-lensed wrap-around sunglasses, credit cards, a wad of yen, and multiple small containers of various shapes, filled with liquids and powders.

"Here."

I look up to see Kyo kneeling beside me, a rumpled page of white paper in his hand. "Thanks," I say, taking it from him. He avoids eye contact with me and goes to sit on the couch, staring down at his knees with his arms folded across his chest. I look away from him and at the note I now hold in my hands.

_**Yuki;**_

_**If you are reading this note, it must mean you  
have gone through with The Plan and Kyon Kyon  
and yourself are now comfortably reading this in  
a full of character, although not tremendously extravagant  
hotel. As your brother, I must scold you for such recklessness.  
You have done a very foolish thing, dear Yuki. You have  
incurred the wrath of the head of the family, and shown  
tremendous disrespect to the Sohma elders. I am sorry to say  
they will not welcome you back here. That said, well done.  
Yuki, there are no words to say how proud I am of you.  
I can only wish I'd had such bravery when I was your  
age. If I had, perhaps things would have turned out  
better between us. But that time is over, and I can  
only dream now, can't I? Dream and work to help  
you, to keep you safe. Such is a brother's duty. I knew  
there had to be a time when you would go live on your  
own, Outside. The Sohma Cage can never hold someone  
like you, as much as you may think it can. Perhaps it was  
only a matter of time. There is no use dwelling on the past,  
we must look towards the future. I know this time in the  
world will be a learning experience for you, but is it  
selfish of me to say I hope you don't learn too much of  
the world? I want you to keep your innocence, Yuki.  
innocence like yours is more precious and scarce than you can  
imagine. I have compiled a list of names and safe places for you  
to use. The first place on the list is the office of an optometrist.  
I have asked him to create colored contact lenses for Kyo and  
yourself – be sure to request him, Dr. Inokura, specifically. He  
has agreed to do this for me as a favor, and I've hinted that  
he must not ask too many questions or give personal information  
you can be tracked with. I suggest the first thing you do is conceal your  
appearance, so see him straight away. The names on the list are  
people I can trust with my life and your safety. The  
addresses after that are safe places whereyou may stay –  
mostly hotels such as the one you are at now – don't  
worry, they get more reputable the farther you get from the center  
of the family, for the farther you get the weaker Akito's influence will  
be. And you will have to go very far, Yuki. It hurts me to say this, but  
it would not be overkill if you were to leave the country, or at least  
the island. I let you be the judge of where you go and for how long –  
you have always shown good judgement in the past. I hope we can  
find a way to keep in touch.**_

_**Your brother,  
Ayame Sohma**_

Stapled to the back of the page is another piece of paper, which can only be the list of names and places. It's certainly extensive – the entire sheet is covered with small, neat writing – my brother obviously dictated this, because it's impossible his script would be so conservative – front and back. I scan it, and it becomes apparent that although there are many addresses, there are very few names. Many of those on the list end in Kuramae, so I suppose Mine's family is fond of my brother. It's nice to see she has a long and far-stretching family – many of the addresses aren't in Japan, much less on the island.

Hit with sudden inspiration, I turn to Kyo. "Hey, Uotani-kun is in Osaka – do you think we could stay with her."

Kyo gives no indication as to have heard and continues to stare at the floor.

"Could we stay with Uotani-kun? Kyo?"

"Uh?" He looks up. "She's staying with her mom. I miss her."

"Yeah, I figured," I say slowly. "Would she let us stay with her? If we go there, would we be safe?"

"We can trust Arisa. She'd never do anything to hurt us."

"You haven't given me a straight answer. Can we go stay with her?"

"… It's your decision."

"I don't want it to be my decision!" I burst out. "I thought you loved her! Why are you hesitating?"

"Look at me!" He stands up, and I can see he's shaking. "I betrayed her, led her on. I let her think this had a chance! Sooner or later, Akito is going to catch up with me again, and then what will I tell her? She's happy now, she'll forget about me… I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt, but it's for the best. I'm too weak to protect her."

"She doesn't want to be protected, she wants you! She's had a hard life Kyo, and you know that. She knows what's out in the world, you can't change that. Stop - stop feeling sorry for yourself and fix things!"

"Why do you even care?" Our eyes meet and his are full of suspicion and pain.

"Look," I say, more evenly, "what you have – it's something good. It's special. Don't give that up because of anyone else's interference. Uotani-kun is a strong person, but she's not immune to being hurt. Not any more than you are. And she didn't forget about you. Here, I should have given you this earlier." I retrieve Uotani-kun's letter from its place in my pocket, where it's been since this morning – another lifetime ago – and hand it to Kyo.

I watch his pupils move back and forth as he reads the rumpled page, listening to the slowing _hshs _of our own breathing and the odd buzzing and clicking of the lights, like moths fluttering against a window. Kyo finishes reading the letter and his hands drop to his side. He doesn't say anything.

"Fine, you don't have to decide now," I say, exasperated. I check my watch and am surprised to see how early it is. It feels like I've been awake far too long, although I suppose that's simply the adrenaline wearing off. "I'm going to sleep. Talk to you in the morning."

That said, I lie down on the tatami mat, pull the tattered quilt over me, and turn my back to him.

"I'm going to go shower. What _is _this shit in my hair?"

I don't answer him. I hear the door click shut behind him as he leaves, and it's not long before I'm completely out of it.

-.-.-.

I open my eyes to the same artificial light I saw before closing them. Morning? I check my watch. Ouch. Afternoon. But I do feel surprisingly rejuvenated, I notice as I stand. That's when I realize I have no clothes to change in to. Looking down at my disheveled, slept-in chinos and t-shirt, it occurs to me that's probably one of the reasons Ayame gave us so much yen. I'm going to have to buy all new stuff. Start all over. The old Yuki would have been intimidated at the prospect, at the loss of his safe niche within the status quo, but within the cramped, peeled-paint walls of the hotel, I'm actually energized.

Where's Kyo? The thought occurs to me suddenly, and as I scan the hotel room for a flash of orange, nothing jumps out. Did he come back from his shower? What if he locked himself out?Then something worse occurs to me. What if he panicked and ran off? He _was _acting weird last night…Why did I ever let him out of my sight?

What if Akito-

Calm down. I'm running away with myself, getting irrational. I'm practically hyperventilating already. I exhale as I sit down on the couch. Which yelps.

"Gah!" I exclaim, leaping to my feet.

Orange eyes narrow at me from beneath a thick mop of sleek, shiny black hair.

"Your hair… what did you do?"

"Dyed it. There were all kinds of normal colors in the package Ayame gave you."

I examine the containers, standing on a coffee table near the door. Hair dyes. And makeup. "I'm not going to wear makeup," I say.

"I don't want to either, but I don't know if we'll have a choice."

"It's not like anyone is going to force us…"

"He'll be looking for us. You don't know what it's like to be caught. I don't know what he'd do to you, but I can't go through that again."

"I know. Calm down."

"…I'm exploding."

"_What?" _I'm not sure I heard him right.

"Exploding. I-inside me."

"Do you need to see a doctor?"

"No, it's not like… never mind."

"Kyo, tell me."

"I didn't mean to say it out loud, okay? I'm not used to talking to people after so long, sometimes things slip out. Besides, it's stupid and immature."

"Just tell me."

"Fine, you really wanna know? I thought I would get angry, but I didn't. I got… stuck. Froze. It stayed inside me, going all weird and confusing. Like, I didn't know whether to be guilty or scared or what. I told you it was stupid."

"Thank you for telling me this," I want to add _I know it took a lot of effort, _but that sounds horribly patronizing. "The same thing happens to me, you know."

"Yeah. I can tell."

I don't ask what he means by that.

I hold one of the containers of dye up to the light, like I'm examining it but in reality I'm barely seeing it. A blue powder is inside, but the label says it's black dye. I guess you need to mix it with other things. I'll do that later – wearing a hat and those blue sunglasses should be protection enough. "Ayame said we should go see some guy who makes contact lenses. He lives kind of far from where we are now, it will take another day to drive out there."

No response.

I continue, "But I think I'll go get us new clothes first. It's kind of cold out, but bright - we can wear hoods without looking suspicious, and the sunglasses will keep us from being recognized. What do you think?"

"Up to you."

"Okay then, we'll do that," I say, trying not to get angry at his lack of reaction. "Are you coming?"

"I'll stay here. I need to shower anyway."

"But you showered just last night…"

"For the first time in too long. I'm not about to give up the opportunity for free showers, who knows when we'll get another chance?"

"So you want me to just go by myself to pick stuff out?"

"Sure, why not?" Grabbing a clean towel off a pile and flipping it over his shoulder, he shrugs. "I trust your judgment." The door closer behind him.

Twice I have been told that in as many days, by two very different people. I hope there was some undetected note of sarcasm in his voice.

-.-.-.

It's getting dark again by the time I've made my purchases. I had the choice between going to the neighborhood's seedy-looking boutiques or going out a ways to the larger, corporate-owned shopping district. Concluding that I'd be harder to identify out of a large crowd, I went with the latter, buying whatever was cheap and identity-concealing – baggy hoodies mostly in dark colors, generic t-shirts, jeans. I paid with the credit card, deciding it would be best to conserve the bills of yen. The total came out to fairly little, and I am quite proud of myself as I head off to get groceries. Probably things in cans. It's not that we didn't plan ahead, but the container of rice and the miso soup Tohru packed for us isn't going to last long.

The sunset is really beautiful today, I notice, still sort of buzzed by the fact that I've accomplished something. The red-and-orange rays of the sun stretch over lilac clouds on the horizon. Without warning, I'm thinking of Tohru. Wishing she could be here. This is the kind of thing she always took the time to notice; she found beauty in everything. I wonder what she's doing back at the house.

I stop myself. I've gotten significantly more adept at controlling the motorcycle, learned the shifts in weight required to stay steady, but that doesn't change the fact it requires a lot of concentration. The air is cool and pleasant against my skin, not stinging like when I was trying to escape Akito. If a police officer stops me and starts asking questions, or if a speeding radar snaps a photo, it can be used to give away our location.

I pull into a parking lot, feeling very satisfied with both my parking job and life in general. It doesn't make sense – I'm on the run, I barely have a plan, and my traveling companion and I can't seem to have a conversation without it getting weird. But just for a moment, things are okay.

I'm in and out of the store quickly, even though I'm in no rush. Like I thought, I went with canned things – mostly fruit and beans, since we need some way to get protein and this seems much preferable to catching small wild animals.

"Hey!" I snap out of my daze and break into a sprint, my shoes slamming down against the hard dark pavement and my groceries bouncing around in their plastic bags. My hair flies in my face and I blow it out of my eyes.

At the sound of my shout, the crowd looks up, burning through me with calculated, threatening gazes. At least a dozen guys have gathered around Uotani-kun's motorcycle, dangerous-looking types with spiked dyed hair and ripped clothes revealing well-developed muscles.

"This your ride?" asks one of them, a tall man of unidentifiable age, with huge blond spikes for hair.

"Yeah," I say, careful not to let my discomfort show.

"You know, that's funny," he says, stepping closer, and I have to fight the urge to back away. "I thought it was the Red Butterfly's."

Why does that name sound familiar? I recall the sticker of a red butterfly on the motorcycle, but I get the feeling I heard the name prior to yesterday.

Not to be melodramatic, but I think my life is flashing before my eyes. As the rat of the zodiac, I am significantly stronger than the average person, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm outnumbered and unarmed. And I'm thinking of Tohru again. That day we went to visit her mom's grave, the sun was bright and the air smelled like wild plants. She was smiling. Uotani-kun wore a long trench coat with kanji running down the sleeves and a red butterfly painstakingly emblazoned on the back. Tohru told us, cheerful and unashamed, that that used to be her mother's jacket. That was it: The Red Butterfly was her mom's gang name. Somehow, this only increased my respect for Tohru's mother, and my awe for the bond they shared. Her mother was honest with her, didn't hide anything, and yet still came off as such a good person. I could never understand that. My mom and I have always been distant, and when I think about it, I really don't know anything about her past. I just assumed she had an easy, Sohma family life.

I could never ask her if that was an oxymoron.

"But then," the blond thug is saying, "the Red Butterfly is dead."

"She was a wonderful person," I say.

He snorts. "Yeah, she was, but like you'd know. She'd never have anything to do with pathetic rich boys like you. You didn't know her." The gangsters' voices meld into a homogenous mix of taunts.

"No," I counter, "you didn't know her." I continue walking towards the motorcycle.

A fist flies at my head but I raise a hand and block, grabbing the blond guy's hand in midair. He grunts and aims a roundhouse kick at my neck. I duck just in time, and pop up, punching him in the chest while he's off-guard. He falls backwards, hitting the asphalt with an "Oof!"

"Give up now," I say.

Rather than take the hint, three other thugs lunge at me from all directions. I kick one, knocking his legs out from beneath him, and sidestep the other two's attacks. Two people grab me from behind, holding my arms mercilessly behind my back. Someone punches me hard in the face, and I fight to keep from crying out as my sunglasses fly off.

I've had enough. I kick out wildly and manage to wrench one of my arms free, but the other thug won't let go. I grab onto his shirt with my free arm, shift my weight closer to the ground, and swing my arms over my head. It works, and he looks stunned as he sails over my head, hitting the ground hard on his back a few meters away.

The other gangsters step back, but Bleached-Blond charges directly at me. He lets loose some kind of primal battle-cry as he attempts to hit me. I catch one fist, than the other. He looks down at his still clenched-hands, held completely still by my own pale, frail-looking ones. I let go and his hands fall uselessly to his side. Turning around, I make sure to keep my focus in case he attempts to hit me from behind. To his credit, he doesn't.

I pick my cracked sunglasses up off the ground and put them back on. Grabbing my grocery bags, I climb back on the motorcycle and drive away unobstructed.

-.-.-.

Drat. It's getting dark, and soon I'll hardly be able to see. My new hoodie is wrapped tightly around me, but the chilly wind buffets me nonstop. I'm unsure whether to speed up or slow down the vehicle, so I settle for continuing at a cautious pace. The machine roars conspicuously in the quietness as the rest of the city shuts down. I don't think I'll ever get used to the air rushing past my ears or the _vroom_ (yes, it actually does sound like that) of the wheels and powerful engine.

A loud, high pitch keening shatters my train of thought. My initial reaction is panic – _strange loud noises! I've done something wrong! I broke Uotani-kun's motorcycle and now I am going to die. _

But after the shock wears off and I start to think semi-logically again, I'm left with a pretty sad excuse for an epiphany; I've heard that sound before. Of course I have.

It's a siren.

And the panic returns again. Ever the law-abider, instinct takes over and I pull over to the side of the road. I mean, it's got to be a misunderstanding, right? I clearly wasn't speeding, and I have a license-

The police car comes to a stop beside me, and a man steps out. He's very tall, like he had to fold himself up to fit inside his (unmarked) automobile. With his militant-short black hair and long measured steps, an authoritarian quality hovers over him. I have a ridiculous impulse to ask _What seems to be the problem, officer? _like a housewife who'd just committed some sort of crime in a bad movie.

"Please take off the helmet. The glasses, too." His voice is exactly what I'd expect – deep, no-nonsense, self-confident. Somehow he manages to drain any connotations of politeness from the word "please."

In the moment I've forgotten I'm wearing either of those. I oblige, and the world becomes considerably brighter as I take off my disguise. Looking at the dark lenses, I can see why those gangsters would be so annoyed at the sight of me – a skinny pale guy with long weird-colored hair wearing sunglasses in the evening? Talk about overconfident. I set the helmet and glasses down on the grass at my feet.

The police officer brings his face close to mine and runs his eyes over every detail of my face. I can feel his hot breath against my skin and have to fight to keep from flinching. I see with disturbing detail as the edges of his mouth curl into a cocky smile, allowing a few yellowed teeth to come into view. "Would your family name," he says softly, stepping back, "happen to be Sohma?"

"N-no. It's" – I glance at his car and say the first thing that comes to mind – "Aioki. Aioki Kyo."

"You know, Aioki-kun," he says the name slowly, like he knows I'm lying, "you have a very interesting eye color."

"Thank you." I consider adding _they're contacts _but decide against it in case he asks me to take them out.

"And would you be related to the Aioki family who own the car company?"

"Distantly."

Infuriatingly, all he does is nod.

"So what's your name, officer?" I say, suddenly brave.

"Well, my personal name is my own business. And my family name," – he picks a piece of dust off his uniform before continuing – "is Sohma."

"How interesting." And I kick him with all my might as he reaches to grab me, sending him flying against his Aioki car.

He coughs into his hand, and the sparse contents of my stomach rise in my throat as I see him wipe a dark mixture of blood and phlegm onto the grass. "The Sohma family also provided me with martial arts training, you know," he wheezes. He rises to his feet, picking a large stick up off the ground and twirling it above his head effortlessly.

He attempts to bring it down on my head, but my hands are already raised to catch it. I try to yank it out of his grasp, but he's somehow used it to pole vault and is at the moment – I'm not kidding – doing a forward flip over my head. Suddenly he's grabbed me from behind in a chokehold.

"It couldn't have been very good training," I say, despite the difficulty in talking with my air supply limited. Black sand begins to cloud my vision. "Or you'd know that's an illegal move." I manage to swing the stick behind me, hard. There's a loud cracking sound and suddenly the pressure on my neck disappears. I hear a dull thump behind me, and another one follows as I too fall to the ground.

On my knees, I'm hyperventilating, my lungs excited at the prospect of all this oxygen. _Ah, air. I remember air. _My vision continues to blacken, getting foggier instead of clearer.

_Calm DOWN. _I wipe something wet out of my eyes, either sweat or tears. With deep breaths, my vision starts to come back. Rising to shaky legs, I survey the scene. The militant-looking police officer is unconscious, facedown on the ground. A dark red mess is trickling down his neck from a spot on his head where it's sticking to his hair in disgusting clumps.

And I'm the one who did this.

I turn him over onto his back, relieved to see his chest rising and falling. Breathing. Alive. I drag him over to his car, leaning him up against the side because I remember hearing something about the dangers of choking on one's own blood when unconscious. I can't remember if this is the right way to prevent that.

Yeah, responsible Yuki. Innocent Yuki. Yuki Sohma and his Good Judgement. Yeah. Yeah, right.

Oh man. I don't want to be responsible for killing a man. Or brain-damaging him into a coma. I should have just pulled myself out of his grasp, run away. It shouldn't have come to this. What should I…

Damn it, what should I do?

As the emotional part of me goes through an identity crisis, I let the cold, rational part take over. It doesn't matter if there was a way around this, because it's over now. I'll turn the siren on so he gets found as quickly as possible, minimum damage done. I'll get back to the hotel, find Kyo, dye my hair and pick up the contact lenses. We'll get out of here.

We're on the run.

We're going to Osaka.

-.-.-.

The man eyes us suspiciously. One can tell he's a sailor; although he's not clad in a uniform but rather a casual red t-shirt and beige chinos, he has the tanned, sinewy look of a person who spends a lot of time outdoors, doing physical labor. "You boys sure you're able to do this?" His glance lingers on Kyo. It's obvious why: the neko hardly looks healthy enough to survive a car ride down the street, much less a trip across the ocean in a boat. For the first time in our lives, he is paler than I. Not only that, but he's lost a considerable amount of weight, so that his eyes – now an orange-tinged shade of brown due to the contact lenses - seem to protrude from his face and if I so desired I could probably count each of his bones.

I don't desire to.

I continue to pray that his spirit is not broken. Don't get me wrong, he must have been the most impossible person in the world to get along with, but his habit of yelling over every little thing is far preferable to this silence that has come over him. If his old attitude is still lying dormant somewhere within this new, frighteningly fragile body, the truth is I will do anything to bring it back. Wherever we walk, despite out baggy clothes, I feel that stares of strangers on us. Not that this in itself is remarkable, I am used to being stared at – and that is not vanity. I am not proud of it in the slightest; it is only another method of the curse to remind me of how abnormal I am. But these stares are different. They are not the looks you give someone beautiful: they are the frightened, pitying glances one gives the extremely old or sick. Until now I never knew the difference between the looks. I do not even know if they are any different than those Kyo is used to receiving from those inside the Sohma clan.

It's Kyo who answers the inquiry. His voice is low, soft. He seems simultaneously delicate and determined, like he is putting his raw soul out in the open for all to see and do as they like with. "I can do this. Both of us can. We're young, but we're not weak. Actually, I guess we're not that young either. We're legal adults, if that's what you're worried about – not runaways."

The man looks Kyo straight in the eye, but the neko doesn't flinch. "There's no age limit on running away from things." He pauses for a long time – or at least, it seems like it to me – before adding, "At any rate, it's not my business. That you can work is all I'm worried about. Both of ya can do that?"

"Yeah," says Kyo.

"Yes," I say.


	22. No Good At Goodbyes

My Fault

Part 3

Chapter 22

No Good At Goodbyes

…

I would like to thank cajun-beauty for her review on the last chapter. Up until this point, I've always avoided putting scenes involving the Internet and email in fanfiction, because it just seemed unprofessional. Hopefully this came out okay.

…

**Arisa:**

I've been thinking about Kyo all morning. I had a dream about him last night. I don't remember what happened, but I was smiling when I woke up. Silly, huh? I'm not smiling now. I don't have the energy. Or something.

"You don't have to drop me off everyday, you know. Really."

My mom glances at me before turning back to the steering wheel. She is frowning. "I like doing this. You're my daughter, I want to spend time with you."

I turn away, looking out the window and watching row after row of houses pass me by. The sunlight is bright and I can see my reflection in the glass. I look bored, or scared, or something. It doesn't suit me.

I don't want to think about how much my mom's last sentence contradicts her behavior for… well, all my life, actually. Even now, living together, she seems to spend a lot of time avoiding me. She'll leave for almost the entire day without saying where she's gone, and she sleeps at odd times. Some days it seems like she makes it a point to leave as soon as I step through the door. Tsukasa doesn't seem to find any of this strange. Then again, I've never seen him react much to anything.

She exhales. "Look," she says, "I know you have a lot of questions."

"I know you won't answer them."

"Arisa, I… listen, I would if I could! A lot has happened in my life, and I don't think you're ready to hear it."

"It sounds more like you're not ready to tell me."

My mom laughs quickly, in the way some people do when they are nervous or surprised. The car pulls to a stop outside the school building and I grab my backpack up from its place at my feet as I open the door. I have one foot out when my mom grabs my arm. "Arisa-"

"It's fine," I say, before yanking my arm out of her grasp. She looks momentarily stricken, but I couldn't help it. She hadn't grabbed me hard or anything – it was actually quite lightly, like a suggestion rather than a demand, and it wasn't painful or anything. But whenever she touches me, I can't help thinking of the feeling I got when she was shaking me. It wasn't that long ago, but it feels like the kind of memory that will always stick close to the surface in my thoughts, like my few but vivid memories of her from when I was a child.

I shut the door behind me, harder than I intended to. I don't look back, but I can hear the vehicle drive away a few seconds later.

Gin accosts me in the halls. "Hi," she says quickly. Even though I've known her for weeks, she still acts as awkwardly around me as when we'd first met. Maybe it's just her personality.

"Hey," I say. She always looks surprised when I respond to her. I have to admit, it gets a little annoying sometimes, but she is an amazing friend so I'll never mention it. She gives off an aura of vulnerability, and I always feel obligated to protect her.

"How was your weekend?" she asks, fiddling with the lock on her locker. She can't get it open after several attempts.

"Weird, as always," I say. "Isn't your combination 22-12-5?"

Very carefully, she spins the lock to the numbers I said. She grins as it clicks open. "Yes! Thank you! Uo-san, I am so glad I know you."

"It's no problem."

"It was a problem for me! I suck with numbers."

"You don't need to get so excited about it."

"Oh. Okay," she says, with extreme seriousness.

I can't help but laugh. Gin joins in, although she probably doesn't know what's so funny. She really does remind me of Tohru sometimes.

"Did you study for the exams today?" she says as we walk towards homeroom.

"A bit. They're just practice exams, so I didn't put in that much time." I don't say that school is oddly easy suddenly, so I never study much anyway these days, except when I need an excuse to avoid Mom's mood swings and Tsukasa's general annoyingness. I know Gin studies hard.

"But the practice exams indicate how well you'll do on the finals! And those are our chance of getting into university!" She is almost shouting, and her eyes are wide; she looks absolutely terrified. She flings her arms in wild gestures that don't appear to have anything to do with the words she is speaking.

I try to calm her down. "We already have the grades for it. I thought you were in the fifth percentile for language arts, history, and English."

"The universities won't care about that if they know what school we went to. Only the standardized exam will count."

I want to ask her what she means, but a booklet of white paper is placed on my desk and the teacher, in a very official, authoritative voice, tells the class that "any further talking is strictly forbidden and will be severely punished. " He picks up a piece of chalk and begins writing on the board in precise, plain letters. I look down at my test and see he is giving the instructions for what to put in each box on the top page. The date. His name. The name of the school.

I'm wondering why he bothered to write these things down, when they all seem obvious, when I notice the last answer is different than I'd expected. Instead of just "Osaka Academy," the third line reads, "Osaka Academy Of Specialized And Personalized Education."

I take a quick look around the room. If anyone else finds this odd they don't show it. Everyone is focused on their tests; eyes down, pencils scratching like there's no tomorrow – graphite apocalypse. I decide to wait until later to think about what the school's ominous-sounding name means, so I bring my eyes back to my own test. I flip the page.

I don't know any of these things. An expanse of numbers stare back at me, but I can't put them into a logical sequence. I flip the page again. History. Japan/China relations through the ages. Did we ever learn any of this?

Once the initial panic passes, things start to come back to me. I learned a lot of these things at the beginning of the school year, back when I still lived in an apartment, close to my friends. In other words, a lifetime ago. My brain can't recall the lessons without making all the associations to everything, everyone I left behind. I feel a burning behind my eyes as they start to tear up.

So I attempt to shut off my mind. My hand seems to know on it's own what to do for most of the sections.

The bell rings jarringly and far too soon. I've finished maybe 70 percent of the questions, and who knows how many I got right.

"How do you think you did, Uotani-kun?" says Mikkun once we've left the building. Her not-quite shoulder length wild black hair bounces around with each step she takes. Mikkun, Gin, and I have fallen into the routine of always walking to the bus stop together.

"I don't know," I say. It's a lie. I know I did badly.

"What did you write for your essay on the political system?" says Gin.

"A poem about the moon," answers Mikkun.

"How is that remotely on topic?" says Gin, almost nonchalantly. She's used to Mikkun's eccentricities. I actually became friends with Mikkun because she's close to Gin, who introduced us.

"The formation of the moon was so… elegant, and on such a colossal scale. The things we humans do can never come close to matching the marvel of stars, and asteroids, and colliding planets. We just can't comprehend the scale of these things. The rise and fall of governments aren't even a little blink in the lifecycle of the universe, and our country is a speck in the solar system, or less even. " Mikkun always speaks passionately about these things, emotionally, although nothing else seems to phase her. "Besides," she adds, 'the poem was highly metaphorical. Maybe it could be seen as a political statement."

"Good luck with that," says Gin. "What about you, Uo-san?"

"I wrote… I don't know, stuff. It was kind of disorganized, I just put down everything I could remember."

"Oh," says Mikkun. "Did you not take the extra information workbooks?"

"I didn't realize we had to take them."

"You don't have to," replies Gin, "but the information is on the final."

"That doesn't make sense. I thought the goal of school was to help us pass the exam and get into a university."

Gin and Mikkun shake their heads in unison. "Not this school," says Mikkun.

"The goal is more like to help you function in society," continues Gin.

"What does that _mean?_" I say.

"Exactly what it sounds like," says Gin. Mikkun nods. We walk the rest of the way to the bus stop in silence. Mikkun is the only one of us who takes the bus, and Gin and I wave to her as the vehicle carries her away. Then the remaining two of us turn in opposite directions.

I walk home.

-.-.-.

No one is home when I get there, but I don't mind. Unable to get Gin's words out of my head, I go up to my room, lock the door out of habit, and turn on the computer. Linking to the Internet, I pull up a search engine and type in "Osaka Academy." The school's website is the first link to pop up. I click on it, but after skimming the page I realize it's excruciatingly vague, and nothing I haven't seen before. Clicking the back button, I scan through the other hits. Most of them are other pages on the same site.

I notice a different looking link near the bottom of the screen, a blog that mentions the school in an entry. I'm not expecting much, but this could give a hint as to the general public's impression of the place.

Judging by the pictures at the top of the page, the author is a girl around my age who takes great enjoyment in posing for the camera. She looks familiar, but I can't place her or think of why I'd know her. Maybe it's just that she looks so generic.

'_Guys and girls, you will NEVER believe what happened today," _she writes in light pink text on a white background. The color combination is hard on my eyes, and I have to squint to read the several paragraphs she's written._"I think we are all familiar with the creepy and annoying Gin Bisco, and how she's been getting on my nerves for ages. Well, the GREATEST thing happened! She is now OFFICIALLY out of my school, and out of my LIFE. _

_I've mentioned before how she's been following me and my friends around, practically STALKING us. I don't know, she was trying to be cool or something. How can she not realize she's lame and gross? EVERYONE else knows it! So like a week ago, I told her the reason we couldn't hang out with her was because we were COOL, and she wasn't. So she asked what she could do to make herself cool. I told her, off the top of my head, that cool people had boyfriends, since I knew she wouldn't be able to get one, and it would be funny to watch her desperately THROW herself at guys. ICK. Then, a few days later, she came to me and said she had gotten a boyfriend, and it was Kazuki Aizawa, this guy whose been her friend since like grade one. Anyway, I asked Aizawa about it and he got majorly PISSED. I saw him get into a fight with Gin about it. They STILL aren't speaking. _

_Gin kept crying about it. What a BABY! I wasn't there when it happened, but Kuni says he went to talk to her and she PUNCHED him! In the FACE! For NO REASON! My sweetie had to go to the HOSPITAL and get his two front teeth REATTACHED. But the good thing is, this all happened on the school premises, so that stupid bitch got in trouble with the teachers. They EXPELLED her! Hooray! I still haven't come down from the happiness. And the BEST part is, she's getting shipped off to OSAKA ACADEMY! I can guarantee you, her future is now pretty much screwed. The school is for people with like violent tendencies and major issues. Most people there are druggies and gang members and stuff, or else they're stupid. _

_That bitch has no chance!"_

The page ends with a link to the author's other entries, but I can't bring myself to click on them. I turn off the computer but don't get up, continuing to stare at the black screen. I feel like I'm going to vomit.

I know that girl is obviously biased – I completely disagree with the things she said about Gin - but this does explain a lot. Like that weird test I had to write to get in. And how the assignments seem to be mainly to kill time, rather than actually teaching much of anything.

But… why did I get sent there? I was registered before I even arrived here, before my mom had met me for the first time since I was a kid. Did she just assume I was going to be screwed up? I remember her getting angry with me when I was young, for not fitting in. Is that it? She thought that since I wasn't like her I must have something wrong with me?

She decided my life for me without even knowing me.

I leave my room, walking down the stairs, my arms folded as if for protection against the cold. Tsukasa is in the living room watching television on the couch. He looks up when he sees me, offers a small wave. I ignore him. My mom must be somewhere in the house, but I don't want to see her. I leave the house. No one stops me.

I walk. I have no sense of time, but I keep walking even when it gets dark. I'm cold and I can't stop shivering, but I won't go back to get a jacket.

The entire journey is a blur. All I know is that when I finally go back to the house, everyone is asleep and the door is unlocked. I go up to my bedroom and see the first lights of day crawling over the horizon through the window. It stings my eyes, which have become accustomed to the dull orange of the street lamps. I sleep through the next few hours, or maybe minutes. I heard somewhere that when a person sleeps, it helps their brain sort out everything that happened during the day. I don't know if this is true, and if it is, it doesn't seem to have a very noticeable effect. The only thing that is clear the next morning is that I suddenly know where I've seen that girl from the weblog. She's the same one who was harassing Gin at the mall, the first time I met her.

I get up and left for school early, so my mom doesn't get a chance to offer to drive me.

-.-.-.

"Uotani-san? You look tired," observes Mikkun. It's lunchtime and we are all seated in the cafeteria. Everyone else is eating, but I have no appetite.

"I'm fine," I say. "I just didn't get much sleep last night."

"Are you sick?" asks Gin.

"No." It's suddenly hard for me to look at her. Not that I believe those things I read about her – it's just… I don't know. I don't want to seem like I pity her, I guess. "Look, I'm fine."

I must sound cranky, because no one attempts to talk to me for the rest of lunch hour.

Suddenly I'm sitting in computers class. This lack of sleep really hasn't helped the time perception issues I've had as of late.

I would have thought my experience yesterday would make me wary of computers for the next few days, but I find my fingers itching for the mouse. I've never been able to concentrate on this class anyway. Once I've opened up the Internet, I realize I can't think of anything to actually use it for. I check my email, out of habit, although it's hard to keep expecting Kyo to write after all this time.

Lately, whenever his name comes into my thoughts, and it does constantly, I can't stop associating it with anxiety. Kyo in a car accident. Kyo sick.

Kyo, for some reason, avoiding me.

I push the thoughts away. Why would he avoid me? I remember the conversations we used to have, the things we'd only ever told each other. Those weren't moments that I could have had with anyone. I meant it when I wrote I loved him, and I still do. I love him so much I feel like I'm going to explode when I'm around him, just because I'm so happy. Now it's like there's a hole in my chest, and the air goes right through me, stinging every time I breathe.

I just wish I would get a straight answer when I called the house.

Hey, there actually is an unopened email waiting for me. I'm so used to it by now, my heart hardly sinks at all when I see it's not from Kyo. I don't even recognize the sender. Spam? No, it's titled as **"For Arisa Uotani," **and I don't give my full real name for anything online. This person must know me. It looks formal, too.

I open it, and the words on the screen are so simultaneously simple and vague that at first I can't understand them. Then I wonder if I'm imagining them, and this is all an almost-perfect dream that will leave me feeling hollow and three-quarters dead when I wake up.

"**Kyo is coming."**

Is this some kind of sick joke? I check the date on the message. Last week. Shit, why don't I check my messages more often?

I don't want to waste any more time so I write back, **"Who are you? Do you mean Kyo Sohma?" **and send it, realizing just after I've clicked the button what a stupid thing it was to write. Of course they mean Kyo Sohma, What other Kyos do I know? If this person knows me, Kyo Sohma must be the one they mean. Unless… Oh, I don't even know, but I don't want to take the chance of getting my hope up any higher.

A reply appears seconds later, and my hand can't move the cursor to open it fast enough to prevent the thousand contradictory emotions that begin whirling inside me.

"**A Sohma. And yes." **

I type back, **"How do you know me?" **I know I'm acting like one of those stupid babysitters in a slasher movie, but I'm still too excited to be creeped out.

Pop. **"We've met."**

This is getting more and more horror-movie by the second. Does the teacher notice that everyone else is listening to his lecture while I'm typing like a maniac? Never mind, bad choice of words. **"How is he getting here?"**

"**Don't know."**

Wow, that's helpful. This has to be a weird prank. **"Do you even know where I am?"**

"**Osaka."**

"**Can you tell me anything else about what is going on?" **

"**Depends. What do you want to know?"**

I'm typing so fast my fingers are practically mashing the keys. **"Where has he been?"**

I wait several minutes, expecting either a very long reply or no reply at all, both of which would illuminate things a great deal; it would probably take a long, detailed reply to explain why Kyo's gone incommunicado, and if the weird stalker person just gives up, it must be a hoax.

When the response comes, it's neither of those things. Pop. **"He hasn't told you?"**

"**Told me WHAT?" **I yell through the screen, realizing only after I've hit _send _that I sound like that inane blog girl.

"**Do you know about Akito Sohma?"**

"**He's the head of the family, right?"**

"**Do you know about the curse?"**

"**Yes. Is he involved in it?"**

"**Yes."**

"**What is his role in it?"**

A one word, three-letter answer appears on the screen. **"God."**

I can only stare at it. Finally I manage to unfreeze my fingers and brain enough to type my own four-letter response. No, not a curse word.

"**What?"**

"**He should have told you."**

This guy, if it is a guy, is starting to piss me off with his attempts at mystique. **"You mean a real god?"**

"**Let's not bring theology into this."**

"**What did he do to Kyo?"**

At least the response isn't another 'he-should-have-told-you.' **"Akito put Kyo in a cage."**

"**An actually cage?" **

"**A small room, but it served the same purpose."**

"**Why?"**

"**It's a tradition. Or it has been in the last two generations, at least."**

"**That's sick."**

"**He escaped."**

"**Good. How?"**

"**I'm not supposed to know. But he's coming."**

"**Can you tell me anything else?"**

"**No."**

"**Thank you," **I type, although I'm really not as thankful as I probably should be. All this has done is raise more questions.

There is no response.

_Kyo _in a _cage? _That's horrible. That's… I don't even think there's a word for it. For a tradition? That's just ridiculous. I knew this Akito guy didn't like Kyo, but this is insane. He actually went and declared himself god. Can no one see that this guy has issues and shouldn't be in a position of power?

I run over the conversation in my head until I'm sick of it and it's probably tattooed into my brainwaves, but I don't discover any miraculous hidden meanings. The bell rings and I begin walking to my next class, not realizing what I'm doing. When I'm halfway there, I change direction and move against the flow of the sea of students, towards the school office. I'm not going to be able to concentrate on anything today, so I might as well file an absence slip and go back to the house to sleep. One half-day won't hurt. I can get the study sheets for the finals some other time.

"I'd like an absence form, please," I tell the school secretary. She looks up at me from behind a wall of that clear, faux-glass that is actually plastic. She also looks tired.

"Reason for absence?" she says, leaning in to speak through the little slot in the barrier.

"I'm not feeling well."

"Name?"

"Arisa Uo-"

"Arisa Uotani!" I look up to see who just finished my syllables for me. A tall, brown-haired young man in a suit. He reminds me a bit of Kureno. I recognize him as my homeroom teacher. "I was wondering if I could have a word with you."

"Yeah, okay. Um," I turn to the secretary. "Can you… wait?"

She nods snappily, looking at me like I've just wasted the valuable time she could have spent staring into nothingness in her cubicle.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Why don't you come into my classroom so we can have some privacy." Okay, I have officially had enough ominous suspenseful things in these last few days to last a lifetime.

The room is deserted, as promised. It looks so vast without the usual densely crowded student population occupying it. Row after row of empty desks stand atop the checkered linoleum like some eerie shrine, facing the single large desk at the front of the room.

The teacher leans back on said desk, instead of sitting down, and looks at me like he expects me to say something. This would annoy me if he were being condescending, but it's more like he doesn't know how to begin a conversation. Again, I'm so strongly reminded of Kureno.

"I know I didn't do very well on the practice exam," I say, trying to avoid looking at my feet or his eyes. The association is so strong I want to check, take a good long look and see this isn't Kureno, or to avoid looking at him altogether, but I don't want to be rude.

I don't feel the same way for Kureno as I do for Kyo. I never did. But there is something about Kureno that attracted me, in the sense that I was drawn to him. Sort of like I was to Gin. Like a part of his personality had been shut down (ack, computer metaphor) and he was trying to function without it. Maybe it's just because they look similar, but this teacher seems almost like who Kureno would have been if he hadn't locked away a part of himself. I wanted to get close to him, to unlock his real self.

Okay, I'm probably not in the position to judge anyone else's psychological state. Away from the ridiculously pretentious thoughts.

The teacher nods. "Does this matter to you?"

"Of course - I want to get into a university, and get a job, and everything! I don't get why no one told me the extra material was on the exam."

"It was mentioned. Your friends Gin Bisco and Naomi Ueda both took the material."

"No one suggested I should do the same."

"Uotani-san… if you don't mind me saying so, you've always seemed kind of distracted during class. Do you even know my name?"

"Yes."

He must see through my lie because he says, "It's Kamio."

"It just… it doesn't make sense to me. My grades are pretty good, but I'm only being judged on one exam."

"Is that what you were told?" He adjusts his silver-rimmed glasses with his index finger and sighs. "There are a lot of misconceptions about this school, Uotani-san. Contrary to popular belief, especially among your age group, it's not designed for students with no future."

"Then who _is _it targeted at?"

"The program is aimed at students who require a different learning program than the general public. That includes gifted and talented young people."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that if you work hard, you have as good a chance as anybody at getting in to a university, even with your record."

What does he mean by that? I don't have a criminal record, even if security guards are still wary of me back in my old home. Did my previous teachers say unfavorable things about me in my transfer forms? I can't imagine Mayuko-sensei doing that – she always made a point of emphasizing it wasn't my past that mattered, but what I did with the present and future. "I still don't understand why no one ever pointed it out to me that this was a different type of school."

His mouth creases into a frown. "Your mother didn't tell you? I know she has had a lot to deal with, but… surely she had you fill out the application-"

Something occurs to me, and I can't keep myself from interrupting. "Could I, by any chance, see that form? If the school still has it on record?"

"Yes, I suppose we could arrange for that. Yeah, it shouldn't be a problem," he says, but he's still frowning. He withdraws a set of keys from the pocket of his blazer and flips through them. "Here it is," he mumbles, and fits it into a lock in a drawer on his desk. There is a click as the compartment slides open. He rifles through a sizeable pile of paper before settling on a single sheet. He hands it to me. "This," he says, "is a transcript of your answers on the academic and psychological evaluation form."

Yeah, I am _really _not in a position to be judging anyone else's psychological state, but I don't seriously think I need to be judged on my own. Although if what this piece of paper says is true, I probably shouldn't be allowed out in society.

Nearly every box in the _Yes _section is marked with a checkmark. I know I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, but I didn't make _that_ many. For example, stealing, as it says I've done here. I admit, I've done that, but I was in _middle school, _and it must have been small things because I can't even remember what they were specifically. I don't deserve to be judged on that. And I never even got caught, so why am I being accused years later and made to look like some kind of kleptomaniac?

"Did anyone edit this after it was given in to the school?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"No, of course not. Why? Are these not the answers you filled in?"

"I need to go home right now."

"Is there anything I can do to help sort this out?" I wonder how much he's figured out for himself.

"Thanks," I say, making my way towards the door, "but I think I have to do this for myself."

I don't even bother to fill out a form. I walk home. Alone.

-.-.-.

Tsukasa watches me from his usual spot on the couch, first out of the corner of his eye and then not even bothering to hide it. His mouth opens and closes, like he's debating with himself whether to speak. He sits up. "What are you doing?" he finally manages to ask.

"What does it look like?"

"I would say it looks like you are moving out."

"Well, you would be exactly right, Tsukasa."

My backpack lies on its side next to the front door, so full it is almost bursting at the seams. I am attempting to maneuver my suitcase down the staircase, and not having the easiest time of it.

Tsukasa rises. "Let me help you with that. I don't want you to hurt yourself." He ascends the stairs and attempts to take the hefty case from me, but I don't release my grip.

"I can manage." I gesture for him to move out of my way.

He obliges, although visibly uneasy. "Does your mother know you are leaving?"

"Of course. I'm not running away or anything."

"Arisa-kun… why? Why now?" He tries to meet my eyes and at first I think he's challenging me, until I remember that's the American expression for sincerity.

"Look, something happened." That something happened to involve a considerable amount of yelling, and resulted in an ugly bruise that is already starting to show up on my cheek.

I try to cover it, but he must notice. "Arisa-kun, I want you to know that your mother would never hurt you under normal circumstances. She loves you. This isn't her that's doing this to you."

"Well, then what is it? What is it that makes the situation so special, and why won't anyone tell me?" My throat is closing up against my will. I sound like I'm choking.

"It's not my place."

"I'm leaving now. Don't try to stop me."

"I won't."

I look him right back in the eyes, although I do mean it as a challenge. I challenge him, knowing full well he can see the tears at the surface of my eyes and not caring. "Why?"

He holds out his hands, palms flat in a peaceful gesture. "That's also not my place."

I deposit my suitcase next to the backpack. Turning my back to Tsukasa, I make one last trip to the kitchen, returning with a pencil and piece of paper. "Here," I say, scrawling down a number hastily but being careful to make sure it's legible. "It's my cell phone number. Call me if someone shows up looking for me, or if… if anything comes up." I hand him the scrap of paper, hoping I won't regret this.

He nods. "Thank you."

I've never been any good at goodbyes. "Take care." And I'm gone.

Even after all the practice I've had these past rollercoaster months, I'm still no good at goodbyes. But there's something to be said for having the chance to say them – even if something still feels incomplete when it's all said and done.


	23. Water

My Fault

Part 3

Chapter 23

Water

…

I would like to thank Anonymous Human and cajun-beauty for their feedback and support. Sorry about the wait for this chapter - school's started again and my classes are being a pain. Now that I've got my math exam over with, I should be able to update regularly again. Thank you so much for your patience and for reading this far.

**Tohru:**

"I don't think I can stay here anymore."

His fingers abruptly halt, freezing mid-step in their complicated dance across the keyboard. My heart skips a beat; I am embarrassed to be the cause of even such a minor disruption. But I steel my will, knowing I have to do this. He turns in his chair, looking at me from over the silver frames of his spectacles. His mouth is a thin line. He looks concerned,

But one can never tell with him.

"Tohru-kun," he says, "I suppose there is nothing I can say to change your mind."

"I'm sorry. Shigure-san… it doesn't feel right, for me to be here. Not that I'm not grateful for your hospitality, but this… it hasn't felt right for a long time. I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize. On the contrary, I should be the one thanking you. You've taken excellent care of us all." His eyes are sad. In the moment, I can read this accurately.

"Thank you. I'm glad I was able to be of use. But I think I have to go now. It would have been naïve of me to think I could stay here forever, right?"

"Listen to me, Tohru-kun. No matter what comes of this, I want you to know you will always be welcome here."

I don't believe him. Not completely. Not really. "Thank you," I say. Again. "But I don't know if I can believe that." I didn't mean to say it. But I said it, and now I can't take the words back. Even if I had that option, I don't know if I would take it.

He sighs. "I can see why you wouldn't. But it is the truth, if that counts for anything." A pause. "Where will you be going?"

"Uo-chan still has the payment down for her apartment for the next few months. I talked to her on the phone a few weeks ago, she said I could use it." I haven't spoken to her since. My last phone calls haven't been answered, and the messages weren't returned. "I've been saving up. By the time to payment runs out, I should be able to afford it. If I work hard."

"I'm sure you will."

"That's very kind of you."

"So you've been planning this for some time?"

"Not really. It just came up in the conversation."

"I see. What time were you planning to leave?"

"I could go now. I-if that would be appropriate, of course. I've already made dinner – soup, pickled ginger, sashimi. It's on the table, but I could put it in the refrigerator on my way out, if that would be better."

He stands up. "You don't need to. I'll eat now. Tohru-kun, thank you. Really. I don't deserve such kindness."

My mouth wants to say something, but my mind can't supply the words, so I turn to leave. When I am half-way out the door, Shigure's voice stops me, quietly. "Can you forgive me?"

I turn, one last time, to him. "I don't know."

He nods. "That's generous of you." Smiles. I'm not sure if there is any regret in the expression.

…

**Kyo:**

Dark!

My eyes have opened to nothingness. My arms flail around, knocking things down, connecting with walls all around me. By the time I've located the string and snapped on the lone light bulb, I'm overwhelmed by the need to get_out _of this room. I kick open the door by my feet and head out for a walk around deck, trying to calm myself down.

The boat rocks slightly but constantly underfoot. At first this bothered me, but after a few days onboard it's become barely noticeable. When I do take note of it, it's inexplicably reassuring.

Stars stand out brightly in the pre-sunrise sky, and the air tastes salty as I breathe it in. Onshore, a few lanterns illuminate the docks. A few hours and I will be loading and unloading cargo. Inspecting cargo. Then, suspended by ropes, dangling by the hull, scraping rust and paint off. Then repainting. Repolishing.

I don't mind – I look forward to the tasks, in fact. Or as much as I look forward to everything these days. I like the feeling of being active. I've never been good at staying still. It feels right, so natural for me to be pushing myself to the limits, even if there is that lingering sense of disappointment now whenever I'm reminded of how much strength I've lost.

I brush a clump of black hair out of my face. The wind blows it right back into my eyes.

If not for all the stops like this, the trip would only last two or three days. It's been four days now. Half-way there.

I feel like something horrible whenever I think it consciously, but I want the trip to take as long as possible. And, maybe, it would be better if I never got there. Never had to explain what I've done to her. To show her that I'm not the same person she thought I was, or the same person I was before. I don't want her to know, to see how completely undeserving of her love I am. And this is one of the reasons I don't deserve it – I am a liar. And a selfish one at that. I still love her. My thoughts are ruled by fear of inevitably hurting her.

My legs are tired. I'm tired as a whole. I change directions, start walking towards my room on the boat in hopes of stealing another few hours of claustrophobic sleep.

I don't want to give the wrong impression – I'm fine. I've learned and I've changed. Now, when my thoughts get like this, I'm fine shutting them down, operating under the leadership of Yuki or whoever else is around, only living in the now and focusing in the task at hand. I learned it from all the time I spent around Akito – he doesn't want us to like him. At least, he doesn't expect it. But if I did as he said, listened to him talk (I don't think he expected me to do that either, but I found myself clinging to his words against my will, or maybe they clung to me, like an oil spill across the surface of my thoughts) he mostly left me alone.

I'm fine.

**Tohru:**

"It's lovely to see you again, Tohru. But please, may I ask as to the reason for this visit?"

"I… I wanted to see you again, Grandpa. I've missed you."

"And I you, child. But you don't seem to be yourself. Did something happen to cause you to come here?"

"I thought I should tell you my new address. I've moved out of the Sohma house."

"Oh? Why?"

I stare down into the swirling clouds in my cup of green tea. "I just felt like it was time to move on." I force a smile, trying to make the words sound optimistic instead of depressing.

When I arrived at Uo-chan's apartment and turned the lights on yesterday, I saw her old abandoned possessions lying discarded around the room – a roughed-up skirt lying on the floor, a black hoodie stuck in a corner just out of view, a stack of old school books forgotten in a half open drawer, countless other reminders of Arisa Uotani. The things someone wouldn't notice if they were in a rush. Memories washed over me in suffocating waves, and my eyes teared up. I couldn't even pick up the clothes and fold them or shut the open drawer – it felt like I would be disturbing something. It was a contradicting sensation – like the door could suddenly open and she would walk confidently into the room and throw on the hoodie and grin at me and ask, confused, what I was doing there; at the same time, it was like a monument, sacred and humorless and silent except for the tinny mechanical sounds of the fan and the distant ghosts of outside noises.

I fell asleep late and woke up early on my futon, leaving the apartment exactly as I found it.

Grandpa looks at me for a long time. "It was kind of you to come."

"It's nothing."

"Would you like to hear a story about your mother?"

The question, so out of the blue, catches me by surprise and my heart skips a beat. "Y-yes. I'd like that very much."

He nods. "I thought you would. But this is a story that happened a long time ago – she would have been several years younger than you are at the moment. Would that story be of interest?"

"That would be wonderful."

**Yuki:**

I've learned that a tall, heavyset man named Toya is the boss figure of the navigation unit where I've been assigned for eight hours a day. He talks to make the time pass faster, but the topics are far from easy conversation. "The radio says that a man on shore was attacked. He was left unconscious, had to be taken to the hospital. You know anything about that?" He has a sly presence and an even way of speaking, as though everything he does is for a specific purpose.

"Is he okay?" I'm careful not to look away, or to look at him too intensely.

"They say he'll recover fine."

"Then no."

He nods, then makes an obvious attempt to change the topic – which I am only too thankful for. "Say, your traveling companion is an interesting guy."

"Is he?"

"He is. It's rare to see such dedication, especially in someone so young. Very serious. He smart?"

"Sometimes."

"Yeah. Boy like that, he can do anything he wants with his life. You on the other hand..."

"What about me?"

"I don't know. Not sure what to make of ya. Seems like you're a guy who'd let a lotta chances slip by him."

"Do you give everyone free wisdom or am I a special case?"

He shrugs. "Just like hearing myself talk, I guess. You looked like you could use some conversation."

"Thanks," I say, not really sure what I'm thanking him for.

"No problem. My word and 300 yen will get you a decent cup of coffee."

"I suspect the 300 yen has a lot to do with that."

"Really? And here I was all this time, thinking the servers were just charmed by me."

We're making good time. The large vessel cuts smoothly through the water, sending up shining waves beside and behind us. The whir of the diesel-electric motor blends seamlessly with the sounds of water and air, reminding me of the sense of exhilaration I experienced on Uotani-san's motorcycle, now once again abandoned but unforgotten in a parking lot.

Endless grey-blue sky reflects on endless grey-green water, merging on the panoramic horizon. After my navigation shift ends, the time I don't spend sleeping, or playing cards and talking with the crew, is spent on the upper level of the deck. I ascend carefully, hand on the handrail and placing my feet on the steps with compulsive precision, despite the lifejacket I am wearing. Sometimes I get dizzy up there, being so high above the water and moving so quickly, but the view, not to mention the honor of having such responsibility, is worth it. I keep watch for any approaching boats, changes in weather conditions, and anything else notable.

From here, the grey-blue-green world is even more expansive, dwarfing everything on the level below me. A few tiny sailors are working to clean the deck. I recognize one of them as Kyo, his jet-black hair now faded to a dark reddish brown. If anyone notices the hasty dye job, they haven't mentioned it – I suppose it could be assumed to be the ordinary effects of the bright sunlight and salty air. I finger a strand of my own unnaturally shiny brown hair, but can't infer much from it. Ayame would be so much better at that.

A strange feeling goes through me, and I realize I actually miss my brother. I've always thought of him as a looming, annoying presence, always available at exactly the wrong moments. The thought that I might never see him again has never seriously occurred to me, nor has the thought that I might actually be bothered by his absence. And what about everyone else?

Tohru…

I don't know what's happening in her life now, not at all. Has she moved out? Is she happy? I assumed I would have forever to tell her the things I still can't put into words. Was I stupid or just selfish?

What would she have said if I'd told her I loved her?

…

**Tohru's Grandfather:**

"Why are you so harsh?"

"Katsuya, it's for your own good. You know that."

"You always say that, but you don't say _how _it's for my own good."

"Do you know how this reflects on me? A teacher's own son failing classes?"

"It sounds like you're more concerned with your reputation than about me. And I am not going to fail classes – I merely asked if I could go out with some friends."

"On a school night."

"Dad, you can't make me study all the time! I'm burning out."

"Did I raise you to be such a selfish child? You must be going through life with your eyes closed not to see what the stress of living with you has done to your mother!"

My son glared at me. He slammed a shaking fist down on the table, and with forced calmness, announced, "I can't listen to this any more." He rose to his feet and walked to the door, throwing a last angry glance my way as though daring me to stop him.

I didn't, and the sound of the slamming door reverberated through my bones as my son slipped away into the evening. I couldn't have stopped him. Already, the words I'd said seemed to sting my throat, as though they came from somewhere evil deep inside my chest. I would have given anything to take them back. It was so powerfully wrong to make a boy feel guilty for his mother's illness.

When I went to go check on my wife, at first I was sure she was asleep. Her breathing was soft and rough, blankets wrapped around her in a cocoon hidden deep the darkness of our room. I sat down beside her, feeling her forehead. Too warm. And yet she shivered, despite the blankets. Should I take them away, make her colder? I couldn't comprehend the mad methods of the realm of disease. I let her keep the blankets. I didn't know what was going on inside her, couldn't possibly know what she was feeling. Maybe the cloth coverings provided some small degree of comfort.

A rasping voice came out of the cocoon. "What… was that… commotion?"

"Katusuya and I had a fight," I said. "It's nothing to worry about."

"Where is he… now?"

"He went out with some friends. I wouldn't worry – he's a good boy."

"I… know he is. But… you worry about him."

"I didn't say that."

"I can tell… because you keep telling me not to worry." She laugh-coughed. "It's woman's intuition."

I chuckled. "I think we all worry about out families."

"We do… but don't… worry so much… please?"

I smiled, feeling my life fall apart. "I'll try not to."

"I… love you."

"I love you, too."

"You should go out… get some air… so you don't… catch it… too."

"Okay." I kissed her burning forehead. "I'll be right here if you need me."

Outside, a chill air shook the plants, dry leaves rustling like moths. Everything in the garden was dieing as fall sapped life away, frosted fingertips trailing stony, deathly shadows over the world. Was any of the fruit still worth salvaging? I went to check.

Various kinds of decaying fruit no one had bothered to pick lay on the ground, adorned with moist, deep brown bruises. The sickly sweet smell of fermenting fruit mingled with that of the layers of rotting leaves hiding the earth.

The one sign of life stood out conspicuously. The raspberry canes, grown tall against the fence that separated the garden property from the street, still possessed a few bright green leaves, and even a few berries, dyed the deep red they become just before falling to the ground. Against the various shades of brown that the background and foreground was composed of, the green and red hues stood out in sharp relief. And above –

At first I didn't realize what I was looking at. The sight was so surreal; I just viewed it as though it was a piece of abstract art.

A girl, dangling upside down from the tall wooden fence by her legs, sticking handfuls of raspberries into her mouth. Suddenly, she looked right up at me, and her eyes went wide. "Shit!" Her legs jerked like she was trying to run, and she tumbled down, headfirst into the thorny canes.

I reacted instinctively. "Here, let me help you," I said, reaching in.

She frantically pushed me away. "Get away from me! I'll pay you back, I swear it! I was just hungry, and they grew over onto the other side, but I ate all of those –"

"Calm down. I'm not angry with you."

She stared up at me, her face a mixture of defiance and fear. Crossed her arms. I saw she was very young, no more than twelve years old. But something in her eyes was older. Hardened, experienced. The same look I'd sometimes seen in the eyes of my twenty-year-old son since his mother had gotten sick.

"Look, I said I was sorry," said the girl.

"I know, and I appreciate it. Where is your family?"

She gestured vaguely, but it looked like somewhere far away. "The house," she muttered.

"Did you run away?"

She shook her head, tangled dyed hair flying across her face. "Got kicked out."

"I was just about to eat dinner. Would you like to stay for some soup?"

"I-I don't think I'm supposed to go into people's houses."

"We can eat out here if you would prefer."

She nodded once, quickly. When I returned from the house with two bowls of soup, I was half-surprised to see she hadn't run off. She eyed the steaming bowl suspiciously, but hunger must have taken precedence over paranoia. She began to eat, spoon flashing in the last lights of day. Within moments she had emptied the bowl of its contents and set it down, eyeing my still three-quarters full bowl. "There's a lot more in the house. Would you like me to bring some more?"

She looked directly at me for a long time, and I could tell she was calculating it – _if he's poisoned it, I've already eaten some, so if I have seconds at least I'll die with a full stomach. _"Yeah. Sure," she says tonelessly, suddenly turning away and staring at the ground with the same angry focus she'd directed at me.

She finished two more bowls. "Thanks," she said when she was done, breaking the long silence that had settled between us. It took me a moment to place my surprise – after her initial panicked apologies, she'd taken on a cool demeanor, using minimal words and betraying no emotion. I hadn't been expecting thanks from her. I reminded myself that she was young and scared – somehow, it was easy to forget these things about her.

"It's no trouble. There was far too much soup for just myself."

"Then why'd you make it?"

"I expected my wife and son to have some, but he decided not to stay for supper, and she… my wife isn't feeling well." And under these circumstances, I couldn't eat much either. I carefully moved my half-full bowl off to the side, out of the girl's view.

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. That sucks."

It did suck, as she put it, but I didn't want to discuss it. "Is there somewhere you could go? Someone must be worried about you."

"I almost drowned in the ocean."

I wasn't sure I'd heard right. "Pardon?"

"I almost drowned in the ocean," she repeated.

"Are you alright?"

She threw out her hands and laughed wildly. "Do I look alright?"

She looked young. Pale and too skinny, with ripped clothes and messy hair and thin red lines all over her skin where the raspberry plants' thorns had scratched her. And hard eyes.

She abruptly stopped laughing and took a deep breath of the chilly air. She was looking at the sky when she spoke again. "Anyway, I probably should have explained. It was a long time ago. I was like six or something." She paused, tilted her head like she was trying to see how a cloud looked from a different angle. "My parents took me to this place for a "vacation." I think my dad just had a business trip or something. There were like these sidewalks with big concrete blocks beside them, and that's all that separated them from the water. The blocks weren't that big, you could climb up and walk on them if you wanted – you weren't supposed to, but no one was there to stop you.

"My parents weren't watching me, so that's what I did. I got up on the blocks and started walking. It was actually kind of amazing, being so close to the sky. Or at least I thought so – sometimes I get stupid and sentimental like that. But ya know how little kids are really clumsy; I tripped over my own feet and fell into the water.

"The current was really fast, and I couldn't even tell which way was up. I didn't know whether to fight or go with the pull, whether it would take me up or down or nowhere. The air got all pushed out of me and I was trying to breath the water and choking on it as it filled me up. The light looked like spider webs blowing in the wind around me, and I got pushed against the concrete, felt it scrape my skin – then the spider web light was gone and I knew I'd gone under the dock. I really thought I was gonna die – there was nothing I could do that was useful. And then all of a sudden, I wasn't scared anymore – I guess it's like how if you're freezing to death you feel warm just before you go. I felt like I had air, or like I didn't need it or something. I felt alright.

"Out of nowhere, something grabbed me. It could've been the current again, I guess, but it felt stronger. It was warm – not like I'd pissed in the water or something, but warm like the heat from a fire – it didn't feel like it belonged there, underwater, and yet it felt right. It wrapped around my whole body, like a big ribbon or a hug or something, and even though my limbs were too limp and tired to move, it was carrying me. My head pushed above water and I grabbed on to the shore and pulled myself up."

I let out a long breath. "That's quite a story." It was all I could think of to say.

She glared at me. "It's true."

"I know. I can tell."

She gave me another long look, trying to see if I was being sarcastic. I wasn't. She looked away again. "I don't think my parents even noticed I was gone until that point, but they saw how wet I was and I got in shit for fooling around."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not like it's your fault. But the thing is, I'm glad I lived. Maybe I wasn't in real danger and just got freaked out like kids do, but I really thought I would die. And that thing saved me – I don't know what it was, but I think something wanted me to live, even if no one else gave a damn. And I guess that made me stronger, you know? Not saying I'm invincible, but I try to live – I take risks but I'm also careful, if that makes any sense. Like, sometimes I feel like there's something I have to do with my life, and I can't die until I do it. So, sometimes I just go crazy trying to figure out what it is and doing whatever I can think of, even if it's really stupid. 'Cause I want to live, but half the time I can't figure out how."

She looked at me again. There must have been something strange in my expression, because she laughed again. "Yeah, I'm over-sentimental as hell. I don't even know what I mean anymore. No one's looking out for me – whatever happens is going to be my own damn fault and no one else's. Or it's going to be nobody's fault, just fate or whatever that was in the ocean. Whatever. As you can tell, when I get talking I don't shut up."

"I enjoyed talking to you."

"Seriously? You're nice for an old guy."

"Do you need a place to stay?"

The strange girl shook her head. "I'll find somewhere – I'm good at surviving. But thanks, for everything. It's really… it's good, what you've done for me. I appreciate it. So, um, no thanks, but emphasis on the thanks."

I smiled. "I wish you well."

"You too." She scaled the fence and was suddenly gone, leaving me looking at clouds.

Several years later, my son came to me for advice, regarding a girl who sounded somehow familiar, but I couldn't be sure. "Take her to see the ocean," I said. "It's a special place."

My son laughed. "You really have gotten soft, Dad." I never found out if he listened to me, but time passed, and soon he brought his fiancé, Kyoko, to meet me.

She didn't recognize me. I didn't mind.

…

**Yuki:**

"I think a storm is coming it," I call down below me.

A guy down below me, who had been sitting in a chair reading a book, looked up at me. "That's odd. There was nothing in the forecast. I'll go tell the captain."

"Thanks." He walks off and I wait, eyeing the black clouds on the horizon. My internal clock tells me it's the middle of the day, but it looks like evening – the entire world seems to have fallen into a shadow. And it might just be my eyes and mind playing tricks on me, but it looks like the clouds are moving in fast, like ink spreading out on the flat grey sky. The water-saturated air is cold on my skin. I thrust my hands deep into the warm pocket of my new hoodie. I've been gripping onto the support rail in front of me with such concentration that I didn't realize until now that my hands have turned red from the cold. At least the stinging reassures me they're not frostbitten.

"Yo!" A voice shouts. I look down to see the sailor I had been talking to has returned. "We're not close to a harbor, but we can keep going. If the storm hits, it's nothing we can't handle. This boat is weighed down by cargo and has a lead bottom – size and weight alone makes it basically impossible to tip. But you might want to come down from there – it's not really safe for a new kid in during high waves and wind."

The words "basically impossible" reverberate unpleasantly through my head. I reply, "Now?"

"Nah, not yet. Only if it gets bad."

I stare over the edge. If things get bad, I will be the first to know.

**Tohru: **

There are tears in my eyes by the time my grandfather finishes the story. I try to discreetly wipe them away, but he must see. "I'm sorry, Tohru. I probably shouldn't have told you that story. I know we both have much better memories of your mother."

"N-no – thank you for telling me. It means a lot. I want to know all about her."

He nods. "You know, she lived a good life. Even when all the world seemed to be against her, she found good in it. She would be so proud of you."

"I… thank you. But… I don't know. If I could be as brave as her."

"Tohru, you've already been very brave. You shouldn't have to be – no one should have to be so brave. But you are."

I think of Uo-chan and Hana-chan. I think of the Sohmas. So many people in the world who shouldn't have to be so brave.

And I have an idea.

There's something I need to do. A brave thing, but nothing compared to what I've gone through in the past, what my friends are going through right now. I can handle this.

For my friends and for mom.

**Yuki: **

The wind flings bucketfuls of water in my face as I carefully climb down the slippery stairs, cold water filling my shoes, eternally thankful for the handrail. A supernaturally black sky reflects on angry black waves, dancing manically to a surround sound roar.

A web of white lightening splits the sky into scales, illuminating the underbellies of clouds. And lead bottom or not, the boat is _shaking. _

I continue climbing. As the steps and rail switch position mid-reach, I am often left stepping on my own feet, holding nothing but air – it always feels like I'm about to crash down into the deck or the sea.

Yes! As my feet finally touch down on level one, I silently congratulate myself on making it. Less fearful but just as careful, I head below deck.

First I head to my room, exchanging my soaked through clothes for a new set. Then I head down a shorter flight of stairs, this one sheltered. At the bottom, dozens of sailors from all three shifts are gathered, talking in the dim but pleasant orange glow of the lights powered by the ship's generator. The pounding from outside sounds distant. It does feel quite safe, and I allow myself to relax.

Until I realize something.

Hoping it's just paranoia, I start to look for him. Logical, mentally splitting the room into a grid and looking down the rows.

I can't find him.

Working to control my voice and breathing, I turn to the person next to me. One of the few women onboard, she's below average height and has short, light brown hair, tan skin, and wide green eyes. "Have you seen a boy my age, brown-orange hair, tall and really skinny?"

Her eyes grow even wider and she looks at me with concern. "Someone your age? No, I think I would have remembered."

"He's wearing a white hoodie, baggy jeans, dark skin –"

"I know who you're talking about. But I haven't… I haven't seen him since the storm started. I'll help you look… if you'd like?"

"I would greatly appreciate that."

"Just a second." She turns away from me, yells out into the crowd, "Hey Park!"

A shaggy-haired Korean man turns to us at the sound of her voice. "Yeah? What?"

The woman says to me, "Park's been traveling the world for years, he's an expert on sailing and always knows what's going on." She smiles, but it flutters on her face like a sickly butterfly. Back to Park: "You know that kid? The really skinny one?"

"What about him?"

"You seen him?"

"You can't find him?"

"Exactly."

Park looks thoughtful for a moment, but suddenly he brightens. "Oh! You know what, a guy was sent out to make sure everything was secured out there. Yeah, he fits the description – around 18. baggy clothes."

"But he can't go out in the rain!" I exclaim. "He's got a… condition. He loses energy when it's raining, it's not safe for him to be out there!"

The green-eyed woman says, voice full of rationality, "Would he have mentioned this condition when asked to go out?"

"I… don't know," I answer truthfully.

Her face darkens. "Let's go. We'll grab lifelines and head out to look for him."


	24. Air

I would like to thank darling luna for the review. This is my most experimental chapter so far. Spoiler alert (although mostly just spoilers I read off the internet with blanks filled in by me, so maybe not very accurate spoilers).

My Fault

Part 2

Chapter 24

Air

…

**Yuki**

The rain is pelting down like the ocean has been dumped down from above, and I shout his name at the top of my lungs.

"KYO!"

The sound is lost, swallowed by the angry elements around me.

The ship is almost 100 meters long, and I can't move fast enough. My harness is attached to a wire, a carabiner clip holding it to a thicker wire running along the slippery deck.

I squint, struggling to see past the veil of rain and shadow enveloping me. Waves buffet the boat, throwing me off balance as I walk. Pounding waves, pounding rain, pounding blood in my ears, pounding footstaps, the awkward harness yanking skin and bones and pulling against my weight.

A hand on my shoulder. "You won't find him like that." It's the woman from before, her mouth a serious line and concern reflected in her green eyes. "I know you're worried about him – we all are. But we've got to do this systematically."

I nod, feeling a lump in my throat.

"Okay, Park is searching starboard, and I'll check port."

"What should I do?"

"Look up in front by the jib. He might have gone to check the ropes and gotten tangled or trapped."

We both know it's a long shot, but I do as I'm told, shivering in the penetrating cold as I shuffle towards the stern, the sharp stinging wind pushing back against me. When I get there, eyes raking the sails taken down to reduce wind resistance, the aggravatingly meticulous job done of rolling in all the sheets –

nothing. No sign of Kyo. I let a frustrated cry out into the wind. How could he _do_this? After how hard we've worked, how can he just give it all up? He has no right to throw everything away!

Another big wave hits, and as the surface I am standing on suddenly tilts, I'm thrown hard onto my side. Before I can pull myself up, another tilt sends me rolling, crashing into a wall.

It's hard to open my eyes, and when I do, hot tears and freezing rain blur my vision. A cut on my lip spills warm, bitter blood into my mouth and down my chin. White lightning bursts across the sky like a snapshot flash, illuminating everything with a ghostly glow for just one moment. In the harsh contrast, my eyes catch on the stairs up to the second level.

It's ridiculous. I'm ridiculous. I crawl over to the stairs, pull myself up against the handrail, and begin to ascend.

My harness catches, yanking me back and knocking the wind out of me. I undo the clip and continue. It's so supremely idiotic of me. What reason could he possibly have for being up here? And despite all logic and self-preservation instincts, I continue to climb.

Up top, I scan the deck, finding nothing. Of course. I peer over the guardrail, fighting to keep my gaze focused, searching the lower level, away from the hypnotic pull of the thrashing, black abyss of the sea.

A layer of water ripples over the deck, and shadows dance in the sway. The sounds of moving air are loud, whistling past my ears and slamming against everything. My clothes flap around me like loose sails. Park and the green-eyed woman move about down below, like models of people on a model of a ship. Ship in a bottle, uncorked and hurtled out into the real, too-big and too-wild ocean. Another flash of lightening cracks the sky like black puzzle pieces on a white table.

There! Something orange-brown in my peripheral vision. I turn and squint to see…_something _in one of the shadowy areas by the guardrail down below. The form of a person lying down? I can't tell, maybe just some kind of object, a container for supplies, rolling around. It – he – it moves and

( - he. - )

I push my doubt aside. Before I know what I'm doing, I've jumped_(stupidstupidSTUPIDstup-) _over the edge and I'm falling falling falling falling

f

a

l

l

i

n

g

…and it feels like flying and it feels like vertigo and it feels like dying and living and spinning and it feels and it feels and it feels and it feels like so very high and long like I'll never land…

When I make contact, I hit hard on my feet before falling to knees that feel shattered.

But I get up, so I'm okay enough.

**Kyo**

My eyes are half open (& half closed i'm thinking about this time she & i went to get ice cream who was that i was young but not that young it couldn't have been mom it must have been kyoko & i was crying that day i got into a fight at school i don't remember what it was about & the teacher was mad at me & i don't think it was my fault the school was run inside the family so they all hated me anyway

& i fell off my bike & my clothes were ripped & i was bleeding from the fight & the fall & she asked me what was wrong & i told her & we went to get ice cream it was so good it dripped down all over her hands & her shoes & then she took off her shoes & threw them out into a trash can & said she was planning on getting rid of them anyway & she walked back barefoot & i laughed & she laughed

& i'm also thinking of this time when this girl i knew we were in junior high & she liked me i could tell but i didn't do anything about it & she had this lighter she always carried around with her & she'd try to burn people standing beside her just as a joke & i'd wonder what would happen if someone actually did catch on fire would they be like the flame in a candle & burn red & orange & blue & maybe purple in the middle of the flame & i wasn't trying to be morbid or gross in my mind it wasn't like they were really on fire it was like candles & calm faces flickering & just thinking would the flame completely surround them but i don't think anyone ever caught fire & that was something i liked about her that she did weird stuff like that

& we went to her house & she had this drink it was really strong it burnt your throat and i coughed on it & she laughed at me & she drank it easily & then she tried to kiss me & i pulled back i didn't mean to really i didn't but she noticed & then she got sad & i tried to comfort her & said i wanted to be friends still but that made it worse & she was like crying & her nose was running & i hated to see her like that & i left & i felt bad about that for a long time & then we avoided each other & i don't know what would have happened anyway if i hadn't recoiled

& also one time kagura & i & that's how it was then for a while it was kagura & kyo like names in hearts with plus signs or ampersands we went to this aquarium & you could see in through the glass right up close to the animals & there was this shark & kagura was looking at with her face right against the glass & it was looking back at her i swear & i asked why she was doing that, weren't girls supposed to be afraid of sharks

& she laughed & said why would she be afraid that was silly the shark couldn't get her she thought the shark was cute & it reminded her of me & then she said if she pretended to be afraid of it would i hold her hand & i agreed not because it was her just because i felt like i wanted to be close to someone & her hand was warm & i looked at the shark it was like suspended in the water and the water was above the ground so it was like it was floating a flying shark haha right up near our heads where we were breathing

& her again her her her her say it over & over & over & over & over & over & it loses its meaning right no it doesn't her again kyoko kyo ko my name is in her name & her blood is on my hands on the road the pavement dark blood everywhere running out of her like a river

& people are 78 percent h2o) and I see him standing over me.

**Yuki**

"Kyo! What are you – get up!" I grab his arm, trying to pull him into a standing position, but he does nothing to make it any easier for me. "We've got to get in!'

"Let go of me," he mumbles, pulling away.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I… I don't… nothing. I'm fine."

He's not looking at me. He's staring at the wooden barrier beside him, all that separates him from the ocean.

"Get up."

Wordlessly, he does as I say, still facing away from me.

"Why did you come out here in the rain? You didn't even take a harness."

"Why does it matter to you? Anyway, If that railing wasn't there, if I just stepped right through that… it wouldn't affect anyone."

He's never scared me so much before. "What are you talking about, Kyo, of course it matters to me! You have no idea how worried everyone is about you, do you? We care, Kyo. I fucking care!"

What am I doing? I don't swear, I never swear. My mouth feels dirty, literally, like I've filled it up with mud. I don't even get any satisfaction out of saying it, I'm just… oh god I'm so scared right now. I have no idea what to do. The whole world is shaking around me, shifting too quickly, and if he does something…

I…

i…

There are no words.

**Kyo**

"I killed her." I look out over the rail. It seems impossible that this could exist in the same world as Japan, as where I grew up, as land. It's just… this void. Wild darkness. A black hole. Like it could suck everything in, leaving no trace. Like that legend, what's it called, the Bermuda Triangle. I wonder if it looked like this.

Whoosh. Disappear.

**Yuki**

"What are you talking about?"

He ignores me.

"Kyo. Who's 'her'? What did you do?"

No answer.

"Are you in some kind of trouble? Just…fuck! Answer me!"

I'm touching his shoulder, trying to reach him, turn him around, see his face.

He's pushing me away.

I don't know who starts it, I don't know why I do it, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, but now we're hitting each other, we're fighting.

It feels awful.

**Kyo**

As I hit the guardrail I hear something crack.

And then suddenly there's nothing there.

**Yuki**

There isn't even a splash as the rail falls away, at least not one that's audible over the storm. I reach out to him, and my fingers…!… catch onto something, not a hand but his beads. His hands reach for me but can't quite make it – my other hand is holding onto a rope from the sail. The rope is moving around by holds tight enough to support us, and if I let go we'll both fall.

In my fingers I feel the ancient thread

like a clumsy new language like pottery on cement like awkward teenage voices like forgotten promises like silence like windows like bones like laws like hearts like foot slam down pedal backwards stop like away –

break.

I stare at the chunk of empty space that used to be occupied by the guardrail, the only indication that he'd ever been standing there.

And then I let go of the rope, push off and dive forward headfirst.

I'm falling down.

**Kyo**

I don't feel anything as I break through the surface of the water, but before I know it I'm falling through something thicker than air. I can't breath, but I guess that makes sense.

It's funny. No, it's not, not at all, but still… I wouldn't have expected it to be like this. My lungs feel squashed, and the carbon dioxide that's become of my last breath tickles my nose as it leaves in small bubbles. There is pressure all around me. It hurts. I see in smudges. I am abnormally aware of my hair, the way the water moves it around. It is brown-orange tendrils in front of my eyes. My limbs move about on their own accord. They are tan-colour, and then they are not my limbs. They are green now, and bigger. I never realized before how it looked when the colours changed. It happened so quickly. There are dark things moving around in the water. I close my eyes.

**Yuki**

It stings my whole body as I hit the water, and I instantly become colder than I ever knew was possible. I can't help gasping, losing valuable air.

Down below me, I can see him falling. I push water past me, pulling myself down. I can't let him disappear from view. I can't.

As we slip down it gets darker and darker. Colours drain away. Comparatively bright tangled threads of light flash by, warped and stretched by the water they travel through.

Darker…

**Kyo**

Like, I remember being in a garden with her. It was one of those gardens that you had to pay to go through, with weird, big, brightly coloured plants that you don't see growing around naturally in Japan. At least, not anymore. They seem like the kind of things that would have grown a long time ago, in an older (no, younger) place. Colorful fruits that I would have no clue how to eat. Wide spiky stems and spidery vines.

She paid admission for both of us, even though I wanted to help with the cost, but she wouldn't let me. The man who we paid kept looking at us like he didn't like us, but she didn't seem to care. She told me that it seemed unfair we would have to pay just to look at what should just naturally be all over, if people took better care of the world. She didn't seem at all bothered that he wasn't that far away and could probably hear us talking. I asked her why we were paying, then. She smiled. Because it's worth it, she said.

And it was. At first I was a bit worried that it would be kind of lame for me to like something like this, like flowers and stuff, but when I looked around me I lost all my self-consciousness. The air carried all the different smells, some sweet and some kind of like citrus fruit and some like nothing I've ever smelled before. Like what sunlight would smell like if sunlight had a smell, or like the sky. And the colours, they were… amazing. They really were. It was all so different from anything I had experienced before. Like, I could suddenly see how plants were alive, really alive, as much as animals were. As much as people.

The light wind was blowing her hair around, and her skirt and jacket. She would run ahead of me to point out things, a rare kind of leaf or an insect. I have this image of her, standing on her tiptoes to reach for this bug on a leaf, and cupping it gently in her hands. And then she opened her hands just a tiny bit, and it crawled out and she led it into my hands. I looked at it. It looked back at me, a quizzical expression in its wide yellow eyes, it's small tilted face. A praying mantis, that was what it was called. With a body that looked like a new green leaf, standing on four thin legs and holding up two arm-like appendages with little purple spikes on the back. I could feel its slight weight and the way the hooks on its feet caught on the playground-roughened lines of my palm.

And then these yellow-and-black-and-red wings unfolded from out of nowhere, and it flew away. I must have looked stunned, because she laughed. She looked so alive.

She said she used to sneak into gardens when she was young. I asked if that was why the man here didn't like her. She said maybe, although that wasn't likely, since he was pretty young so probably hasn't been working here long enough to know who she was. But maybe he thought just from looking at her that she seemed like the type of person who would do something like that. I said that that was stupid of him, not to get to know her, I knew her and she wasn't someone who would get in to trouble for no reason. But I knew what she meant.

The way I said it must have sounded funny, too serious, because she laughed again. I joined in. I laughed with Kyoko.

She seemed so alive.

**Yuki**

I'm so close. I can feel the way the water moves as Kyo, in his normally bead-repressed form falls through it. He'd been struggling against the flow, but the current was too strong for him in his weakened state, and this form seems too heavy and the wrong shape for swimming.

And then he stops. A jolt goes through me as I watch him go limp, fearsome-looking limbs resisting the flow no more than the tattered remnants of his clothing are. I push harder against the water. I had thought I was going at my maximum speed, but I couldn't have been. I _couldn't. _I_have _to go faster, because the alternative is unthinkable.I can't see him anymore. I can hardly see myself anymore.

There!

My hand brushes against torn fabric, and I find one of his arms. I pull him up towards me, his weight diminished by the dense medium of water. I sling him over my shoulder, as that leaves my arms and legs free, and I change direction, now heading up towards the dim, probably half-imaginary light above me as I kick and pull and push through water, praying that my almost-empty lungs will manage to resist the strong instinct to breath for long enough for us to break into air.

**Kyo**

I instantly know it's a ghost town. I feel it. I run my fingers over the cold stone walls as I walk. The walls seem to stretch on forever, grey and rough. Maybe they were smooth once, but time and the elements have left them worn. They have no sharp edges. They are high, blocking out view of whatever is outside, and bending, intersecting to form a labyrinth. The only sound here is the wind changing pitch. There are a few buildings, also simple unfurnished stone and with nothing inside aside from sparse details in the rock (openings for windows, bits of old wood jutting out for shelves), but with deliberateness to the design, which suggests the minimalism is intentional. They might be houses, but no one lives in them. It has been untold years since anyone has lived here.

Except for the queen.

But she doesn't count.

She's just there. As I reach the center of town, I see her. Her head turns to follow me, but there's no recognition in her eyes and her expression remains detached. She sits on a throne right in the middle of the flat land. The throne is impossibly tall for its thin wooden legs, even higher than the walls, so that the night sky is to her back. Like the rest of the town, the throne is undecorated. She is the only thing that makes it a throne instead of a chair. It is so high there is no way she could ever get down from there by herself. She wears long, black robes that trail down over the edges of the throne, twisting in the wind. A silver crown sits on top of her straight dark hair, which, with no one to cut it for her, has grown long and disorderly, covering much of her pale face. But I can see her eyes, blank and black.

One of her hands stretches limply over the edge of the armrest. The other supports her chin. The moon and stars dangle from threads tied to her fingertips.

I continue walking. Maybe there's an exit somewhere, although if there is, I've yet to decide whether I'll take it. I don't know what's out there.

As I turn a corner, I see her. Not the queen, but someone different. Other. She can't have been here long. I would have felt it. She doesn't see me.

I observe carefully, ducking into one of the houses and watching her when she isn't looking. She wears a vibrantly coloured skirt and a plain white t-shirt. She is barefoot. In her hands she carries maybe a dozen branches of flowers, all different types. She walks into one of the building across from me, setting a white lily down on the rounded stone block that must have once served as a table. She goes into another house and does the same, this time with a branch of cherry blossoms. She is smiling as she does this, very slightly and with her lips closed. And she is humming. The song sounds familiar, but I can't place it.

A violet. A daffodil.

I am so entranced that I don't remember to hide when she enters the house I am in, setting down a branch of fireweed on the table. She looks directly at me and smiles.

There is no malice in the expression, or pity. She's just being nice. This catches me off guard.

And without a word, she leaves to continue distributing flowers.

Snapdragons. Some kinds I can't name. A tulip.

And as she sets them down, roots push out from the stem, easily slipping down into the rock and pulling the plants upright. It all happens in moments, hardly more than seconds. Maybe minutes.

She doesn't speak to me, but I can tell she doesn't mind me following her. She smiles at me a few more times. One time she hands me a flower to put on the table. It's a small sunflower. Just like the flowers did for her, it takes root.

She's got one flower left when the car comes out of nowhere. I don't get the license plate, or the type or even colour of the car, and if I had it wouldn't change anything, it doesn't matter. I jump out of the way, but she doesn't have a chance, and suddenly she is lying in the middle of the road like a bird with broken wings, or a snapped-off tree branch.

I run to her side, kneel down on the ground next to her, but there's nothing I can do to make this better. I want to pick her up, carry her to safety, if only I could put my arms around her…!

)she'll never forgive me she'll never forgive me she'll never forgive me she'll never forgive me(

But deep down I know it wouldn't do any good even if I could. Not at this point.

There is no blood. There should be, after what happened, but there isn't. But she's fading all the same.

A rose on the ground, a few feet away from her, partially crushed and missing most of the petals. The wind blows them away. I catch one in my hand, not sure why I bother.

She smiles at me, but it is a smile that makes me feel like crying or screaming because it's so achingly sad.

"Look after them," she says. She puts her hand on top of mine, on top of the purple-red of the damaged rose petal. I hold on to her tightly, but her hand gradually slips through my fingers.

First like sand.

Then like water.

Then like air.

Then she's completely gone.

She's gone.

I pick up the rose and walk away. There's nothing to see there. In one of the buildings, I set the rose down on the table. Nothing happens. I stand it up in a crack in the rock, try to balance it and straighten the flower's head, which has bent in a way so that the stem seems unable to support it. But when I let go it falls down, many of the few remaining petals snapping off upon impact.

As I look out the window, I see the queen's chair is still there, but she is nowhere to be found. Scattered on the ground are the moon and stars and the threads they'd been attached to. They look like broken glass, scraps of paper, and so much string.

**Yuki**

I break through the surface into miraculous air, coughing up water and sneezing as I take deep breathes, ravenous for oxygen.

Kyo has returned to human form without me noticing until now. His eyes are closed and his mouth is open, but I can't tell any more than that as I struggle to keep both our heads from going under again. The weather has calmed down significantly, it's not even raining anymore but I still end up swallowing mouthfuls of horribly salty seawater. I'm numb all over.

"Grab on!" someone shouts, a man's voice with a slight accent. I look ahead, towards the boat, to see a set of life preservers tied to ropes. I swim towards them as fast as I can, which is quite slowly since I'm trying to drag Kyo along with me as safely as possible.

I'm so worried about him, but I'm too exhausted to think about much of anything at this point.

We reach the life preservers. I put Kyo in one as best I can before grabbing onto the other.

**Kyo**

I open my eyes. There is light above me. I think it is from the sky. Strong hands are on my chest. They force the heavy water up from my lungs. It is all very efficient and medical. I have to shut my eyes again.

**Yuki**

I see him move, breathe.

I'm so relieved, so happy.

I collapse. I can rest now, for a little while.

**Arisa**

I wasn't too worried about where I would go from there. I would manage. I just had to get out of that house and stay out.

I took a bus. Looking out the window, I watched the bright lights and billboards pass me by. It started to rain, and I tried to block out the associations of Kyo as I watched the parade of salarymen in their black suits, their umbrellas making them look like mushroom-people as they walked over the puddles swimming with reflected colours, shiny shoes sending out tiny ripples through the streets.

I got off just before I'd have ended up some place completely unfamiliar. Thankfully I didn't have very many possessions in the first place, and I could maneuver my backpack and suitcase about without too much difficulty. The bus stop was under an awning, and I walked around under it for a while, just to pass the time. I stopped into a cheap restaurant to get something to eat, surprised that I was hungry at all. It had been quite a while since I left, but I'd lost my appetite after that conversation.

"_Why did you change my answers on the school forms? Why the hell would you do that?"_

"_Arisa, I looked into your past before you came here. I had to."_

"_No, you didn't have to! You chose to. I'm your own daughter, and you wouldn't trust me."_

"_I hadn't seen you in years! I didn't know what you'd grown up to be like."_

"_That was your choice."_

"_Arisa, it's not that simple."_

"_Actually, it is."_

"_You think it was an easy decision for me?"_

"_No, I'm saying it was a selfish decision. You abandoned us, nobody made you do that. And you know what? I was fine, I was over it. But if you were trying to come back into my life, you could have at least been honest with me!"_

"_You were too young to understand why I left your father. But I can tell you that he'd known for a long time that it was coming."_

"_Do you have any idea what you did to him? If it wasn't for you, maybe he'd still be alive now!"_

"_Is that what you think? He was a grown man, and the way he lived his life was his own decision."_

"_He couldn't control it! He was addicted, and you knew he had a problem before you left, you knew you'd make it worse."_

"_Arisa. I hadn't talked to him in almost a decade the day he died. I was halfway across the country when he choked on his own vomit."_

"_Well maybe if you hadn't been, he wouldn't have!"_

_Slap. "Don't make him into more than what he was."_

"_You have no idea what he was. I feel sorry for you."_

I throw my empty food wrapper into the garbage can from across the room, basketball-style. It hits the rim and bounces out. I sigh and pick it up off the ground as I'm on my way out, putting it in properly.

Still raining outside. I find my umbrella in my suitcase, remembering how that girl who drove me to the airport practically threw it at me. I miss her, for some reason. I only met her once, and we hadn't even gotten along, but I miss her. I miss everyone back home.

Why did I ever leave?

As I unfold the umbrella, something small and white falls at my feet, into the layer of water on the sidewalk. I pick it up quickly, but the paper – that's what it is, a small scrap of paper with a piece of sellotape on it, it must have been taped on to the umbrella – is already soaked through. Nevertheless, I can still read what's written on it, although the blue ink is running.

There's a series of numbers, it looks like a phone number. And at the top, one word: Rin.

The sound of a bell? What's that supposed to mean? Maybe it's just a way of telling me to call that number.

Since I have nothing to lose, I give it a shot. My coins clink as they tumble about within the payphone. I punch the number in on the cold buttons.

_Brr-ing. Brr-ing. Brr-ing. Brr- "Isuzu Sohma speaking."_ Isuzu. The name means a bell. Rin would be her nickname.

Sohma?

"_Hello? Is anyone there?" _

"Er, hi."

"_Hello? Who is this?"_

"It's Arisa Uotani. Who are you?"

"_I already told you, Isuzu Sohma."_

"Yeah, but I mean how do I know you? Your phone number was inside my umbrella."

Pause. _"Oh. You're that girl."_

Then it clicks. "You're the person who drove me, aren't you?"

"_Yeah."_

"Why did you give me your number?"

_"I figured you might get into trouble, involving yourself in the family like that. So, is that what happened?"_

"No, I'm fine. At least, nothing related to your family has been causing me any problems."

_"That's a pity."_

"What's that supposed to mean?"

_"I just thought you might know where Kyo was, considering the relationship you had with him. But I guess that's over."_

I ignore her last remark. "So it's true then… He really isn't there anymore."

_"Yeah, that's what I just said. Yuki's gone too."_

"Does this have anything to do with the curse?"

_"… You know about that?"_

Shit. "I-"

_"It's fine. I figured you did, anyway. Doesn't really matter to me. But no – at least, not directly, not that I know of. It has to do with Akito. Yuki broke Kyo out of Akito's cage, and they ran away. Nobody has any idea where they went."_

"And you thought they might be here?"

If shrugging was audible, I would have just heard it. _"Makes as much sense as anywhere else."_

"Hey, Isuzu-kun, did you send me an email?"

_"No." _She sounds truly surprised. _"Why and how would I do that? I don't even know your address."_

"No reason. Just wondering."

More and more questions, never enough answers.


	25. The Woman Without a Past

I would like to thank cajun-beauty for the review on the last chapter (note to her: as you can see, I did manage to take all the right buses and get back safely. Yay!)

This one was probably the hardest chapter to write, because it's unlike anything that I've ever done before, and the character is about as different from me as it's possible to get. As always, feedback would be lovely. And p.s. ffn ate my formatting, as usual.

My Fault

Part 3

Chapter 25

The Woman Without a Past

**Kyo**

I wake up to rays of sunlight coming through the window and landing warmly on my face as they sway with the movements of the boat. I sit up, raise my hand to my face to feel something wet. I brush it away. Tears. I cried in my sleep.

I dreamed about Kyoko. Her words still echo in my ears.

_Look after them. _

What had she meant by that?

I throw aside the covers and see I'm dressed in some sort of robe. It's too nice to be mine. So is this room. I climb a few steps and open a door to find myself on deck. I see Yuki nearby, facing away from me, looking over the railing at the clear blue sea. Ripples sparkle in the light. It's actually… beautiful.

Yuki looks up at me, smiles. "You're awake."

"Yeah," I say. "So are you."

I can see something in the distance, across the water. Could it be…?

"Approaching shore!" a rough-voiced man yells joyously.

Osaka.

Arisa.

**(--)**

I can't feel my legs.

And then I do.

It feels like a million hot needles shoved under my skin.

Am I screaming? Someone is screaming. Unless I am hallucinating it.

I do not remember where I was born. Not the city or even which country. I wish I could remember. It seems important to know this about myself.

Someone comes into the room. I can't see him well. I close my eyes.

It was either in Japan or America that I was born. My parents were married in Japan. I lived in America when I was young. I was an American. I went to my Japanese classes on weekends but I didn't like going. I was embarrassed when my father would talk to me in Japanese in front of my friends. But this didn't happen often. She mostly raised me, my mother.

She was an American. A European-American, although she had never been to Europe since her parents had to run away from there since they were the wrong type of Europeans. She had blond hair and blue eyes. I didn't look very much like her.

She was diagnosed when I was a baby. Her body was fighting itself. By the time I was five she was in a wheelchair. Her personality changed, slowly. I always knew she cared about me, but sometimes she was so angry and sad I couldn't be around her. It got harder and harder for her to move, even in a wheelchair. When I was eleven she tried to kill herself. Her suicidal body had made her mind suicidal as well. After that she left to go live in a hospital.

That was the summer my dad took me to Japan. At first I thought it was for a vacation, but it turned out he was buying a house there. I should have known it was coming. He had been giving me fragments of the divorce speech for years now. My mother was hard to live with. Sometimes she was even violent to him. She was never violent to me, but I knew she came very close many times.

I am surrounded by hands and noises.

We went back to America to pick up our belongings. That was when I cried. For everything that happened, for everything I was leaving behind. I hadn't cried about it before, not like this. I couldn't stop, the tears just kept coming, warm and big down my face and all over my shirt.

And then it was over, and I was living in Japan. It felt so foreign. People stood too close together and I never understood half of what was being said to me. Then the novelty wore off and it was just… a place.

My Japanese got better. I killed my accent. All the letters of liked are in the word killed, plus an extra l. I just noticed that. It's been a long time since I thought in English. But I didn't like my accent, not anymore. I was tired of feeling different. In America I had been in the school choir. Everyone said I had talent, and I wasn't too modest to believe them. But in Japan, I didn't sing anymore. Not in public, and not sober.

I did okay in school. Not in the academic part, but I mean, I started to feel… okay. I had enough friends. I went to parties. My father felt guilty over a lot of things, and he wasn't used to taking care of me, so I could do what I wanted for the most part. I liked it, didn't I? I had boyfriends. I did whatever felt good at the time. I had some degree of popularity and all the free time in the world.

Not really. I wonder if I ever really believed I did. Have time, that is. I have this vivid memory from when I was sixteen. It was my first attack, although I didn't think of it as an attack at the time, like not putting a name to it would keep it from meaning something. I was watching television. A commercial came on to buy a type of food. It was a mix for soup. It made me hungry, and I got up to go make some noodles in the kitchen.

My vision blurred, went black first from the sides and then closed up so that all I saw was shimmering waves of darkness. The ground shifted underneath me, rotated ninety degrees and my knees buckled. The stainless steel pot I was holding came crashing down like distant thunder. I don't think it lasted long. My vision started to come back, although I was seeing double. I picked myself up off the dirty checkerboard-patterned linoleum floor. I was breathing hard.

I went back to try and watch the rest of the show, but I couldn't concentrate. The double vision didn't help. I went outside to go for a walk, trying to get some strength back in my legs and to convince myself that nothing had actually happened. I was just dizzy, or hungry, or getting sick or having an allergic reaction to something I didn't know I was allergic to. I was clumsy. I was getting a headache. It was nothing. I wouldn't mention it to my dad.

About a year after that my dad took me back to America to visit my mother. I wouldn't have recognized her had she not said my name.

"(--)," she said as she looked up at me from the bed she was in, covered by papery sheets. She made it sound like a prayer in a foreign language, although English had started to sound foreign to me by this point. It was such a slow language, with different ways of fitting the vowels together with the consonants. The letters looked like squiggles someone on a beach would use a stick or foot or finger to make in the sand.

She died a few days later.

That was also the year I got engaged. I found out I was pregnant a few months before the marriage was scheduled. My fiancé and I thought this would be okay, since we were going to be a family anyway.

A couple of weeks before the wedding, another set of results came back. I'd had a few more attacks since the one when I was sixteen, and they seemed to be getting progressively worse. My fiancé was there for one of them, and I could tell it scared him. He insisted I see a doctor.

It turned out I was the same as my mother. I actually blamed her a bit for my getting it. Asians weren't supposed to, they were hardly ever supposed to. This was how I found out I was more European than I looked.

I told him about it. We held each other and cried, finding comfort in each other's body heat. We decided to get married anyway.

The months passed and I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. We named her Arisa after my mother's mother, Alice, whom I only vaguely remembered but had always been kind to me. She'd spent a lot of time looking after me as a child, when my mother was incapable and my dad was busy. She smelled of baking and spoke in a strange pleasant accent like music. Like the rest of my extended family, I hadn't seen her in years. But I had a new family now.

And for a while we were so, _so happy, _my small family and I, living together in Japan. Just barely getting by, but happy. I hadn't gone to enough classes to graduate, but he had, my husband. He worked hard for all three of us to live without having to go begging to my father, who had stopped communicating with me since I had gotten married without his permission. He still didn't know about my disease and something stopped me from telling him.

It was during this time that it hit me that I really didn't have many friends. I'd always been a social person. In high school I was always part of a group. But now that it was me and him and our daughter… none of the old crowd stopped by anymore. They were moving away for school or work, or just to know what it was like to be somewhere else. It took a while for it to occur to me that I wasn't enough reason for anyone to want to stay.

I was taking medication. First pills, then liquids from metal syringes that would sting as they broke the skin, then pills again – whatever the doctor was recommending at the time. It had been a while since I'd had an attack. There could be years between them, the doctor had told me. I could still probably have quite a long life as long as I took care of myself.

But sometimes, especially in the morning, I could hardly move. It wasn't anything physical, I just felt… heavy. I'd always been on the underweight side, never could get the hang of three full meals a day. But sometimes my limbs felt like they weren't attached to me, like they were just sacks of flour. It just seemed like too much of an effort to get up every day for the rest of my life, go through the daily chores, then back to bed to try and fall asleep again, lather rinse repeat. Why bother? What was the point to it all?

I didn't think like that all the time, not even most of the time. But when it hit, it hit hard.

I was dying. I didn't know at what rate, but I was. And my little family, my hardworking husband and babbling baby daughter who I was afraid to hold because I thought the earth might shift under my feet again and I'd drop her, just couldn't change that. We were all growing older and poorer, and it felt like I'd fallen into a trap.

However much time I had left, I didn't want to waste it. I was alive, so why couldn't I feel like it? I started to take small risks. Life is more tangible when it feels like it can suddenly go away. When I rode the bus to get groceries, I wouldn't hold onto the safety pole. It had no meaning, really, but still – inside the vehicle, feeling its movements like being inside a huge metal creature that roared and bumped around over potholes and jostled me against strangers, it felt like it did. I'd ride my bike like a madwoman or a reckless child, far too fast, until my surroundings were a blur and I was high on adrenaline. When I took medications I'd exceed the recommended dosage, just a bit. And then, when that seemed to do nothing, more and more. I passed out on the couch in the middle of the day once, after medicating for a headache, and woke up to Arisa crying for food. Who knows how long she'd been like that.

I couldn't take it anymore. I was pathetic and I knew it, trapped in some ridiculous awkward age for all my life. I illegally downloaded decades-old American music since I couldn't afford to import it. I was home practically all the time unless I was out running errands. Everything I did left me tired and bored and aching and hating myself for allowing me to feel like that.

My husband hurt his neck at work and I ended up in hospital after overdosing on his painkillers. I hated that place with every fiber of my being. The harsh lights and sterile smells made me feel like I was in another world, one with no sunlight or dirt. I was hooked up to tubes and wires and machines, like some mechanical ghost. Sometimes uniformed men and women would come in to stick needles in me or ask serious-sounding questions. They never smiled. I got the feeling they thought I was a burden. They probably thought it was pointless for me to have done something to end up here. I guess it was.

Some doctor woman told me I had developed manic depression as a result of my disease. Her words didn't mean much to me. I knew what I felt, even if I didn't know much else about myself, and giving a name to it didn't change anything significant. It just meant that now I'd have to go to meetings once a week with other people who the hospital had also told had manic depression to learn living skills with them.

I didn't want to go. Being told what to do was another thing I hated. I did what I wanted, when I wanted. It was my motto, even if lately it wasn't strictly true. I had to look after my daughter and the house, cook for my husband. Mother things. I could have found time to do other things, I just couldn't think of anything. I decided I actually would go to the class. I'd be horrible. I'd make sarcastic remarks. I'd insist repeatedly that there was nothing wrong with me. I'd be a constant pessimist, I'd _have _to have the dissenting opinion from the teacher or instructor or whatever they were going to be called.

Going to that class is what changed my life again: because that's where I met _him. _He did everything right. When he spoke he always said pleasant, intelligent things. He dressed well, looked good, like he'd lived his life the right way. Like there was no reason for him to be there, but he was too pleasant to protest and was willing to give the experience a shot on the off chance something positive came out of it.

He made it so I couldn't be nearly as snarky as I'd have liked. But he laughed at my jokes, found moderate opinions even I had to agree with. He took me out for dinner after the meeting. I don't know what we ordered, but I remember he held my hand under the table. He told me I was a good conversationalist, that I seemed very worldly.

When I got home my husband asked why I was so late. I told him that the meeting had run longer than scheduled. I made sure to tip the babysitter who had been looking after Arisa so long past the scheduled time, who had stayed around even after my husband got home to make sure I knew how angry she was that she'd been forced to stay late, even though it made her even more late getting home. When she had left and my husband was in bed and Arisa was miraculously quiet for once, I found the dictionary buried under a pile of clothes nobody wore anymore since they'd been kicked into the corner of the room weeks or months or years ago, and I found the word "worldly." Knowledgeable about the ways of people and society. I read the definition over and over. _He _thought I was knowledgeable about the ways of people and society.

I crawled in bed next to my husband, who was already snoring, turned away from me. Knowledgeable about the ways of people and society. I fell asleep happy.

I kept making excuses to see him, usually attributing it to the meetings. It suddenly felt glamorous to call them meetings. Like I was a powerful businesswoman, not some social parasite in need of fixing.

I know I did a terrible thing. It's not like I never had regrets. But the thing is, when I was with _him _it didn't _feel _like a terrible thing. The first time he kissed me, I felt like my heart exploded. I constantly looked forward just to seeing his face, hearing his voice. My skin felt warm wherever he touched it. I think I really did love him.

It wasn't some gross, obscene crime. At least, not to me. It wasn't even sexual at first, not for a long time. It was like movie-love. It was a feeling I'd given up on while still a teenager.

It definitely wasn't for money. I know anyone who heard the situation would say it was, but that really wasn't the case. I. Loved. Him. I loved my husband as well, but I was starting to figure out that was in a completely different way. But my husband could barely pay the bills, much less afford a babysitter for whenever I went out. So _he _stepped in, paying for sitters, among other things. Our whole family's standard of living was gradually improving.

My husband was suspicious. He had right to be. I didn't have an excuse for the new clothes I brought home, the toys I had for Arisa and the food from restaurants that I'd have on the table instead of having to cook everyday. I just said they were gifts, which was the best balance of truth and safety I could find. I hated lying to my husband, even though I was doing it on an almost daily basis by this point. I had a hard time looking at my husband anymore, afraid I might see distrust, or worse, disappointment, in his expression. It was hard even to look at my daughter – the reminders of him in her completely trusting face stung even worse.

If I'd been paying attention, I would have noticed that this is around the time my husband started drinking more. We'd both been drinking as long as we'd known each other – in high school we were social drinkers, and we were very social people. But this was different. It was starting to affect his behavior, even his work. He was making less money than ever even though he was spending more time away from home. Arisa was practically being raised my strangers.

The easiest solution, or so it seemed at the time, to wanting to see more of Arisa and wanting to see more of _him_ was to invite him over to the house when my husband was out. Yes, I know, it was stupid. Arisa wasn't a baby anymore, and although she was still very young she was smart enough to ask questions. She was a really intelligent kid, I was actually truly proud of her. Don't ask me where she got it from. My DNA was certainly not doing her any good, nor were my interactions with her. I didn't like who I was around her. I was terrified of hurting her, or embarrassing myself. I didn't want my daughter to hate me the same way I hated so many things. I ended up alternating, unpredictable even to myself, between trying too hard and not trying at all.

Eventually, this happened:

"I'm going away," _he_ said.

I stared at him, dumbstruck. Was he joking? "W-where?" I couldn't keep my tongue straight over the monosyllable.

He told me. "For work," he said. "I've been transferred. I apologize that I didn't tell you sooner – it was just finalized now."

"I'm coming with you."

He actually seemed taken aback. "What about your family? Your husband?"

"I love _you._ I never should have gotten married, I don't even know why I'm still together with him." Please don't leave me.

"You're willing to do that?"

"_Yes! _I want to live my life with you."

"There's no way I'm going to change your mind, is there?"

"Do you want to?"

"No." He looked away, then back at me and took my hand. "I don't want to change your mind."

And then, much later, this:

"I'm sorry, we've got no new leads on him. We've filed a missing persons report, but there's no indication that foul play has been involved."

"You've got to tell me if you find out anything! Interview his friends, his coworkers, use your fingerprint technology and check for tire tracks. Just! Find! Him!" The phone was silent for a moment as I held it in my shaking hand. My fingernails bent at the tips as they pressed against the hard plastic.

"Ma'am," the police officer on the other end said finally, "we're doing all we can. But is it possible he did this on his own free will?"

I slumped out of the wheelchair I'd gotten as a result of an attack a few months ago that had left my legs weak, and onto the floor. "Yes."

"If that's the case, we won't be allowed to disclose his location to you should we find him."

"I just want to know if he's okay," I said hollowly.

"We can do that. If we find him, you'll be the first to know."

I stared at the phone for a long time after I hung up, still sitting on the floor. I pressed the buttons at random, seeing if they sounded different from each other. It was hard to tell. I wanted my brain to shut off. If he didn't come back, I was going to sell this house. It was too expensive for me to pay for, even if I managed to get a job. Besides, it was too big for me to be comfortable in anyway.

I had no idea where he could have gone. I remembered that as long as I'd known him, I'd often thought that there was no way he could have manic depression. He seemed so stable, normal. Perfect. I'd been trying so hard to sound worldly around him, faking intelligence from what I'd seen on daytime television in my past life, the one with my husband and Arisa still a baby. In retrospect, I really hadn't known him at all.

I open my eyes and see that I am once again in a hospital room. My body doesn't know whether it wants to laugh or cry. I compromise and cough. I try to move my legs, but they don't respond. Looks like it's not in remission anymore. I know from experience that no one who isn't a medical professional is allowed to be in the room at this time. That will change in a few hours. I'm not sure if this change will affect me personally at all.

**Tohru**

The members of the school film club look at me like I am a science experiment and they are not quite sure what it will do next. They consist mainly of Prince Yuki club members, boys who are ranked in the top grade percentiles, and boys who are ranked in the lowest grade percentiles – diverse groups, but none which I am popular with. Then again, there isn't really any group I am popular with, although some are largely indifferent to me. Now that Yuki, Uo and Kyo are gone, I've really only got one friend at the school.

When Hana enters the room behind me, the club members look away. Her electro-poison waves are not taken lightly.

"Tohru," says Katsurou, the president of the club. "You're not known as an academic student. Do you genuinely have an interest in film?" There's no cruelty in his voice, but he speaks to me as though I am a child.

"Y-y-yes," I say. It's a struggle to get the single word out, since I'm not even sure it's true. But the club is taking an educational trip to Osaka for a few days later this month, and this is the only chance I will have to go.

"It's late in the year to be joining, and I can't allow you to hold back the rest of the group. Nobody needs to teach you what's already known to the rest of us."

"I can assure you that will not pose a problem," says Hana. "I will teach her."

A Prince Yuki girl scoffs. "Do you even know how to use a video camera?"

"I know many things," says Hana. The girl suddenly looks nervous.

Katsurou sighs. "And I suppose you want to join, too."

"Yes, I would like to."

"Fine. But if either of you do anything to upset the other members, your membership will be revoked."

This seems too easy, until I remember who the other members are. Still, this is the best opportunity I have. "Thank you," I say.

Katsurou nods and turns away to open a drawer of a filing cabinet. Inside, I see compact, new-age-looking cameras, and a variety of different types of computer cords which I cannot guess what purposes they are for. He removes one of the cameras and hands it to Hana.

"The current assignment is to complete a short film. It must be complete by Monday, without exception. You'll be working with Airi-san."

The Prince Yuki girl who'd spoken earlier looks up as the name is said, her face a mask of disbelief. "What? Sensei, why me?"

Katsurou responds coolly, "Because, you're the only student without a group to work with."

"But I want to work by myself!"

"Hana-san and Tohru-san are new, and they'll need someone to help guide them in the assignment. If you don't complete it, you'll be faced with the same consequences as any other member."

She looks like she is about to protest, but he adds, "It's only for one week," and she closes her mouth and turns back to her computer screen. Katsurou looks triumphant.

I look over Airi's shoulder at the computer monitor. Her fingers are moving furiously over the keyboard, and she's conducting herself with such concentration it seems like she's playing an instrument that emits only staccato clicks. Shapes and colours are moving between boxes on the screen, amidst a sea of lines and tiny words and numbers.

"What are you animating?" says Hana.

Airi doesn't look up. "Why are you looking over my shoulder." Her voice is level as she says it, not rising up into a question at the end.

"That looks very interesting, Airi-san. You must be quite talented with computers,"  
I say.

No response. The clicking suddenly stops, and she clicks the mouse once, very deliberately. The many boxes on the screen dissolve into a picture of a tranquil pathway through a green park. A female stick-figure begins walking along the path, but before she can complete her crossing of the screen, she spontaneously bursts into extremely realistic-looking flames.

"I sense our involvement in this club shall be an interesting experience, Tohru-chan," says Hana, eyes fixed on the small pile of ashes in the center of the path.

.-.-.-.

The camera clicks and emits a whirring sound as Hana turns it on, holding the viewer up to one eye, the other eye closed. "Everything seems to be working properly. Do either of you have any ideas for what our short film should be about?"

Airi steps forward in front of the camera. A miniature version of her copies her movements as she appears in the camera's playback screen. "I have one." She flips her long hair back over her shoulder. "The protagonist will be this beautiful, mysterious boy. He does everything perfectly – school, sports, life in general. Everyone admires him. Girls want him, boys want to be him. But no matter how hard they try…" She stops, smoothes out her hair before starting again. "No one can get close to him. And then, this girl does. And she starts to change him. Now, maybe this seems like it will be positive for him – he seems happy around her, it might be good that he's socializing past the basic formalities of friendliness. But no one really does know much about this girl. And then… he disappears." She snaps her fingers. "Gone."

"There is no need to be hostile," says Hana, voice dangerously even.

"I'm just making a suggestion. It's an ambiguous ending, see - Makes you a bit suspicious of the girl, doesn't it?"

"Airi-san," I say, "if I did something to wrong you, I apologize. But what you're talking about is really not something you have a right to be upset with me for. I'm not Yuki-kun, and I don't have control over what he does."

"Hey, you finally caught on." Airi moves until she's right in front of me, towering over, something wild and predatory about her. "Must be smarter than you look. Not that that's any great feat."

"Please stop insulting me."

"Why don't you stop insulting my, and everyone else's, intelligence?" she exclaims. "It wasn't a secret, the way you and Yuki felt for each other. Please, it was obvious! You were the one person he told everything to, and you expect us to believe you have no idea where he is?"

"Airi-san, it was his own choice to leave. That's all I can tell you."

"That's trash. He's a few months from graduating, top of his classes. He wouldn't walk out on that. Everyone expects amazing things from him."

"Maybe that's not what he wanted." My voice is suddenly quiet. "What if he was tired of everyone's expectations? Maybe he didn't want to be amazing. Maybe… maybe he just wanted to be Yuki-kun."

She's silent for a moment. Aggression seems to drain out of her. When she speaks again, her voice is quiet as well. "But… Yuki-san is amazing. No matter where he is, that's not going to change."

I know what she means. "It might be he wanted a chance to be amazing in his own way."

A few tears slide down her face. She hastily brushes them aside, but more follow. "He had so _much _here. I can't believe he'd just leave it all behind. He had school, he had his whole life, he had _you._ I thought that at least, with you here, he wouldn't leave us behind." Her words are interrupted by sobs, and it takes several deep breaths before she can continue. "I've had four conversations with him. _Four. _And I've known him since grade school. I thought that in these last few months, I'd be able to figure out what I felt about him, and I'd tell him. That's all I wanted – one last conversation."

"Airi-san, I promise you, I'll do anything I can to help you have that conversation."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"And you can't tell me anything more? You haven't heard at all from him?"

"I'm sorry, I honestly haven't spoken with him since he left."

"And you don't know where he is?"

"I know that he's all right."

"How can you know that?"

"If something had happened to him, I would have felt it. I _know _I would have."

"Man, that's so cheesy." She laughs, and it sounds quite similar to her sobbing. "I don't understand how the way you say it actually makes me able to believe it."

I try to keep believing, too.


	26. Integration

My Fault  
Chapter 26  
Integration

**A/N:** Hello everyone! Thank you so much for reading my story, and welcome to Chapter 26! As you might have noticed, it is a bit of an understantement to say it's been a long time since I last updated. But I am glad to be back and intend to have this story completed as soon as possible.

This chapter is dedicated to Kaiti – thank you for your lovely reviews, which did a lot to restore my faith in my writing, and for reminding me of this fic.

**Kyo**

I reach the end of the ship's ladder and jump the last few feet onto the bobbing, plastic dock. Water slaps at the shore in the commotion as I and some other workers lead the boat into place by the ropes, finally tying it in place. Seabirds cry out like alarms.

My eyes scan the jagged rocks of the beach. Behind them, a dark green line of trees presses against last light in the sky. Children dart between branches, surrounded by marketplace sounds as their parents barter over fish.

Their laughter and conversation sounds like something from a dream, blurred behind the closer, real, sounds of the sea, the feel of salt in my hair, the miles after miles of black-blue, white-blue waves tumbling over each other like looping yin yang symbols. The sky, the way you can only see it only from the water, when you lie on your back on the deck and see blue in every corner of your vision, and you hang suspended in the colour and feel its variations like music.

Behind rocks, trees, people, the square ends of buildings reach out towards a sky that will look so much smaller underneath them.

Is Arisa in one of those buildings?

_We're really here. _

I concentrate on the sea bouncing under my feet as I walk towards the shore. My fingers gravitate towards the string around my neck, fidget with the lone bead. All that's left holding my true form at bay. And I'm going into that city. All those people.

"_Look after them."_

**Arisa**

"Arisa-kun!" Gin gasps as she opens the door. "What happened?"

"I... I need a place to stay." The evening sun radiates swatches of watercolour over the small, white houses of her neighbourhood. In my black coat, with my boxy suitcases, I feel too big, too dark, too solid. A disturbance. "I don't want to impose, I have nowhere else to go, it's just for tonight –"

"Come in," she says, grabbing one of my bags and pulling it inside. She leaves me stunned inside the doorway and disappears from view, then returns with a first aid kit and starts dabbing at the bruise on my face, the small scratch where my mom's fingernail had caught me. "It looks worse than it is," she says, placing a small bandaid over the cut. "Do you want some dinner?"

I try to say yes, but my throat closes up, so I nod. In the kitchen, Gin's grandmother is showing two small boys how to play a card game. The elderly woman smiles at me as I walk past. "Hello. Are you a friend of Gin-chan's?"

"Yes." I bow low. "I am Arisa Uotani. Thank you for having me in your home, Bisco-san."

She grins, revealing crooked teeth and blazing joy. "Come play Koi-Koi with us. Akimitsu-chan, Hibiki-chan, introduce yourselves to Gin-chan's friend."

The two kids bounce with excitement as I sit down beside them, while Gin heats up some soup. "Arisa Uotani-san, eh?" says Gin's grandmother, shuffling the deck. "Glad to finally meet you. Gin-chan talks about you all the time."

"Glad to meet you, too," I say. I wonder why she doesn't mention my injury, my abrupt appearance in her home. The way she welcomes me, unquestioning, like Gin did... The way this family accepts me...

I know I should be happy. I think I _am _happy. But there's also something else. A feeling like I'm a blank piece of paper I have to fill up with words, a silence I need to turn into a story. Like I'm a stray balloon, floating into the sky, aimless, fading out of sight. Like I've fallen apart, and now have to put myself back together without knowing where the pieces are, what they look like, how they fit together.

These people are so kind, and they don't even know me. I take a spoonful of the soup and the memory of Tohru's cooking hits me like a wave, plunging me into the past. Akimitsu's words trip over each other as he explains the rules of the card game, while Hibiki interjects points so seriously I think of Megumi, with his dark eyes watching over everyone around him.

I want to go home.

**Hanajima**

"Hello?"

At first I think it's a prank call or a wrong number. The receiver buzzes softly with white noise. Then: "Hey."

"Arisa?"

"Yeah. How, uh, how are you?"

I could feel it, lately, that something was going to happen. Like the increasing rustling of leaves, faster and faster, before a typhoon hits. Electric waves spread out like the surface of the sea – something moving underneath, twisting out currents. But no telling what – nothing to see but ripples and shadows.

Things are not going to be the same once it breaks through to the air.

Is this it?

"What happened?" I say.

Another long pause. The dragon in the sea curls around ribbons of water. The sky outside bursts into a clatter of wings as a storm of birds passes overhead, littering feathers over the landscape. Sounds of static.

I think she might be crying.

"Oh man," she says. "So much. I don't... I'm not sure where to start. I'm so sorry. I really messed up."

"Where are you?"

"Still in Osaka. I'm staying with a friend."

"Are you safe?"

"From everyone but myself." She pauses, and I wait for her to continue. "My mom and I had a fight. I'm... I can't live there anymore."

I think of all the hope she'd balanced on this move, on the tightrope of being reunited with her mother. I think of it all crashing down, and I want to reach out to her through the phone. I want to turn myself into sound and transmit myself through the wires, and on the other end, wrap my arms around her and tell her it will be okay. Hold her close to me and tell her it's okay to cry, that she didn't do anything wrong. I know her and she couldn't have done anything wrong.

"What did you argue about?" I ask.

She tells me the details and my skin grows cold. _She shouldn't have done that to you. How could she do that to you, Uo? Why?_

"I was so stupid," she says. She sniffs. "Thinking coming here would change anything. These people... none of them were ever my family. My family is with you, and with Tohru, and... Kyo, Yuki... I even miss that perverted writer."

"You couldn't have known," I say. "She's your mother. It wasn't wrong of you to take a chance to be with her. And it wasn't wrong of you to leave."

"I didn't... I never even said goodbye to you."

"It's okay," I say. "You've been going through something huge. No one can blame you for being lost in thought."

"I acted like an ass."

"You needed time. The world you were standing on crumbled under your feet."

I can hear her crying now.

"Besides," I say, "you will see Tohru and I soon. We should arrive shortly after Kyo and Yuki."

"Yeah." Sniff. "Wait – what?"

"Do you mind telling me the address you are staying at?"

"Sure, it's -" she says, and I write the numbers down. "But I'm not sure how much longer –"

"Don't worry," I say. "We'll be there soon. I'll pass this on to the Sohma cousins, too."

"I don't... Okay," sighs Uo. "Thank you.

"It's no problem," I say. "We'll always be there for each other. Wherever we go, it doesn't change that."

"Yeah." The sound of a smile. "Thanks, Hanajima."

**Yuki**

"It's an email," I say to Kyo in the hotel, "from Hanajima-san."

"What does she say?" he shouts from the washroom. The shower water has been surging for the last half hour, and I let him be, even though I'm impatient to wash the ocean salt off my skin.

"There's an address. Uotani-san's."

The water shuts off and he steps out in a towel. He looks more like himself than he has in weeks. His light brown hair is shot through with orange highlights, and he's tanned from the long days outside, not nearly as underweight as he'd been. The bead from his bracelet, orange-red, dangles between his collarbones.

He looks over my shoulders at the message. "That's close," he says, "isn't it?"

"A half-hour walk. Do you want to go?"

He's been different. Breaking through the surface of the sea, it was like he broke the surface of a dream. Like for the first time since his escape, when he looks around him, he really sees what's there. Like when I talk to him, he hears _me, _not the commotion of memories.

Like he's back.

When we pulled him out, he mumbled about Kyoko, about car crashes and flowers. About protecting something, or someone. I was worried he'd be lost, get even more distant as the hallucination, the lack of oxygen, pulled him away. But no. Since then, he's been... _Kyo. _Shower-stealing (despite his aversion to water), contradictory, contrary, vivid Kyo.

And I'm so happy I want to shout, go out into the streets and fill them with noise. Let the world know I'm here. Even with the Sohma family after us, all the fear of the last weeks, of all my life, seems to have untied and let me go.

Because Kyo's back.

"Soon," he says. "Can I check something on the computer? I need to check something about the zodiac. But I think it's almost time."

What did he dream when he was under there? I wonder. What did he see that meant so much? I step aside, and he begins to type.

**Kureno**

"Kureno. What is this?"

Akito's long white fingers stab at the window. Birds stare in at us from the branches of every tree, so plentiful their eyes look like clusters of shining berries in the evening light.

"I am sorry, Akito-sama. I do not know."

"You're lying! You're the only one who could do this! What did you do!"

I set a hand down on her shoulder, but she pushes it away and glares at me. "I did not do anything, Akito-sama."

"Then what... what are these?" Her shoulders fall, and I see in her eyes that she's scared.

After Kyo's escape, people in the inner circle of the family have noticed she hasn't been herself. But even before, as soon as he was imprisoned, I saw the change in her. Her anger dissipating more quickly. A note of uncertainty in her voice behind the symphony of her rages.

Tradition or not, it took a toll on her to lock him up like that. To truly take the control over another person's life, the control she's been told she had all her life... I know it hurt her. To be so powerful. So powerless. Trapped in the role that's been laid out for her since her birth, her future written in ancient calligraphy before she was even old enough to hold a brush.

A secret, which I will take to my grave: when Kyo escaped, I think a part of her was grateful. Despite the turmoil it threw her into, despite the plates she smashed and the tea cup she smashed open on the floor, hot water and leaves tumbling out like a small landscape over the polished wood, a part of her was relieved.

Because the day he left, the nightmares that shook her night after night, leaving her yelling my name into the dark, ceased.

So many changes. First the escape, the first in Sohma family history. And now this. Where weeks back we had crowds of cats mewling at the gates, there are now birds surrounding the house. Looking into every window. Looking at us as though they expect something.

"I'm not sure," I say. "I think, somehow, the curse is changing."

**A/N: **Please let me know your thoughts on this chapter! It's been around three years since the last update, so it feels strange to be getting back to this story, but good. How does my writing style now compare to back then?


	27. Protector

My Fault  
Chapter 27  
Protector

**Arisa:**

_Where am I? _

My eyelids unfold to blackness and the texture of the sheets against my skin is unfamiliar. The smell of the air is miso and ginger.

_Gin's house. _

And the memory of how I got here comes flooding back.

It feels like a dream; coming to Osaka to live with my mother, then suddenly I'm not with her anymore. And my life before that – Kyo, the Sohmas, my dad... that's all a dream too. Going back, pretending like nothing happened, it's not possible. That life is gone. That _me_ is gone.

And now what's left?

Bzzz bzzz. Bzzz bzzz. I roll over on the futon and reach for the phone on the nightstand before it can wake Gin up too. A few feet away, she mumbles in her sleep, eyes tightly shut against the blue light pouring from the screen of the device.

_Caller ID: Aoki Inc._

I flip open the phone and untangle myself from the sheets. "Hello?" Stepping out of Gin's room, I carefully close the door behind me.

"Arisa-san?" The male voice is familiar, shaking like a leaf. I move through the bluish shadows cast by the paper walls; after my mother's square, wood-and-plaster house, this feels like being inside origami. I think I can hear the Bisco family's soft breathing as they sleep, but that may be static.

As I slide open the door to the yard, damp pre-dawn air prickles at my skin. "It – it's Tsukasa," says the voice on the other end.

"Oh," I say, brushing sleep from my eyes. "What's up?"

"It's Jen. I mean, Junko. Your mom."

"What _about _her?"

The sentences spill over each other, fighting to be first out of his mouth. "She was taken away to hospital – I just got home, I called as soon as I could – she has a condition –"

"What sort of condition? Is she okay?" My mouth goes dry. My heart stops.

"She... she's alive. But she's not going to be the same after this. For a while, at least." He strains to keep his voice steady. Tries to present as the stable adult.

"What happened to her?" The role he's adopted gives me permission to take counter-stage and emote for both of us. My voice, unfiltered, is almost a yell.

An hour ago, I would have said it wasn't possible for me to care what happened to my mother. Now I know that's a lie. No matter what she did, she's a part of my tiny, broken family. She's a part of me.

Everyone I've ever known, everyone I've ever let close by choice or who was shoved into my life by circumstance, they made me who I am. Shaped my perspective and showed me what I was living for, even if it was just to prove them wrong. Junko Uotani, -Jen Aoki, whoever she is - gave me my life, in more than one way. I hate her, I love her, I forgive her, I don't forgive what she did.

I can't... I can't lose her.

Hot tears blear my vision, fuzzing out the pinkish light pushing over the horizon. Trees around me stretch out branches like dark, heavy hands, and I'm hit with a powerful urge to lie down on the wet grass in their colourless shadows, close my eyes and sink into the earth. Like that woman at the hospital years back, throwing herself at the floor and asking it to swallow her.

"She has a disease called multiple sclerosis," Tsukasa's voice is saying. I hear his voice more than I hear his words. I hear the fragments of meaning you won't find in the dictionary, the truths hanging like spiderwebs in the air that will be brushed away and destroyed unnoticed as soon as someone moves. His voice is woven from a billion different threads – of fear, of sadness, familiar pain, confusion, love. A thin, thin one of hope, which he barely allows to exist because it's all that's keeping him together, and it has the potential to strangle him.

Hope is like how depressed people end up detesting their meds. You start hating it, because you know how badly you need it.

"Have you heard of it?" he is saying.

"Kind of," I say. "I don't know... that much."

"It's an autoimmune disease. Pro – progressive." Static shakes the airwaves. No, not static. Crying. It takes me a moment to realize it's him and not me.

When I can talk again, my voice is shaking hard. "How bad is it?"

"She'll be in the hospital for a few days. At least. She's lost the use of her legs – but she might regain it, this happened to her a couple years ago. But... this is the worst it's been in a while. I'm so sorry, Arisa-san. I... I thought you should know."

"Thank you," I say. Then: "Are you going to visit her?"

"Yes."

"Can I come with you?"

"Of course."

**Kyo:**

The year is 1268 and Eri Sohma charges through the fields of feudal Japan, claws churning up muddy chunks of rice plants. His movements are careless but not clumsy; he knows where he is going, and the wreckage left in his wake is none of his concern.

The sounds of clashing iron and wood form a storm around him as he emerges directly in the fray. He is the eye of the hurricane; as he swivels his dragonish head to take in the scene, adjusting his weight on his four thick claws, he feels the surrounding soldiers hold one collective breath. Wondering what his next move is.

It excited him. In an animal, instinctual way; his blood pulses and his nails draw in and out, itching to bite into warm skin. At the same time, he feels nothing. Thinks nothing.

Thinks everything. His mind is a swirling black mass, fear indistinguishable from hate, indistinguishable from any other emotion. Past tangled into future, into present. This is all he can do. He wants to hurt, and he wants to stop hurting, and he wants nothing, because to want suggests that he has any degree of control in his existence.

He wants nothingness.

He lunges at random into the circle; he and his enemies both know he has no need for strategy. He swipes a deep gouge into a shield, the force sending the holder sprawling to the ground, just as a spear glances Eri's hide, leaving a deep scratch but no real damage. Even so, Eri releases a roar and swings out his arms, collapsing two soldiers as though they were twigs.

Men gang up on him, attempt an array of defensive and offensive measures – joining their shields and arranging themselves into a centipede-like form, firing arrows at him one after another, charging four at a time while others hang back to join in with ranged attacks wherever he's got his back turned.

None of it stands a chance. He swipes the arrows out of the air, cracks the bamboo between his pointed teeth, and rips apart armour like paper. Very little of his sense of time has lasted these past years, but Eri suspects the battle is over quickly. Around him, many have fallen; more have fled. He feels something that might be happiness at their escape, at the preservation of life. But he's not sure.

He smells the iron as blood sinks into the wet ground, dyeing the earth the colour of crushed azalea.

The Jade emperor approaches from behind a hill. "Well done." He walks towards the cat, a dozen bodyguards following close behind. Eri growls but does not fight as a metal muzzle is forced over his head. The device is uncomfortable, with no space for his ears, pressing on the bones of his skull. He shrinks away from the pain, literally; his body becomes smaller, and he feels as though he is folding in on himself. Claws withdraw into his arms, into his bones, and his paws lengthen to thin fingers. The bones of his legs warp, form human knees, human feet. His jaw bends and hardens into that of a man. His spine strains as the weight it supports is entirely redistributed.

He looks like a human again.

He feels even emptier than before. Entirely dehumanized.

A ring of beads is slipped over his arm by one of the bodyguards, and he is forced to his feet by a sharp stab in the ribs. Head hung low, silent, he is marched back to the grounds of the Sohma family.

-/-/-

"The cat used to be a protector," I say to Yuki. "Of the Sohma family."

"It says that on the internet?"

"No, stupid. But you can figure it out. Eri Sohma, he was one of the cats from way back – it was in this family history book we had to study when we were younger, during our education on the inside and all that. I thought I'd heard the name recently, so I looked him up – and I was right. At school about the feudal era, he was one of the most feared warriors."

"Interesting."

"No, seriously, it is. Because look what time period he lived in." I jab a finger at the screen.

"Careful, you'll scratch the hotel computer and we'll have to buy them a new one. It says

1245 to 1279. Why?"

"Now look at this." I click the other tab and the page shifts.

"'Legend of the Nekomata'?"

"There. The time period where the legends originated. And the description of the creature."

"A shape-shifting cat demon, up to five feet long, resistance to poison, supernatural powers... Wait. Are you saying... they're the same person?"

"Exactly."

"And he was the cat."

"Yup."

"So what does that have to do with you?"

I twist the string on my neck around my finger. "This is where it gets weirder."

-/-/-

**Arisa:**

Tsukasa's strange large vehicle pulls up in front of Gin's house 15 minutes later, and I run towards him. On the kitchen table, I've left a note thanking the Bisco family for their hospitality and explaining I have to leave for a family emergency.

Tsukasa is quiet during the ride to the hospital. I listen to the whir of the engine and try to shut off my mind, but that never works when you want it to. I'm sitting with my legs folded in front of me, knees to chin, the way you're not supposed to sit in cars because if you crash it's going to snap your bones. But it makes me feel smaller, and right now, smaller feels safer.

Trees and white-faced houses slip past. The sunlight stings my eyes and thoughts chase each other through my brain while my heart strains against my ribcage like an overfilled balloon. "Could I have done anything?" I don't mean to say it out loud.

I know I didn't cause her illness, but what if the stress of me, here, caused the symptoms to flare? And if I didn't do anything, couldn't do anything... if I'm powerless against all the pain and unfairness, then what's the point?

I'm not saying there isn't one.

But... why does anyone do anything if they know their efforts might get torn apart with no discernable cause?

"You did," says Tsukasa quietly. "She was happy you came. That she got to know her daughter. It was the happiest I've seen her in a long time." Five minutes later, he adds, "Happiness isn't something she's used to. I think it was hard for her, to care about you so much. I think it scared her.

"I know I can't excuse what she did to you, and you weren't wrong to leave. But if you know one thing about her, please know that she loves you."

His face is a mix of old and young, thin lines sharpened in the too-bright light, eyes the colour of tea. I look into them and see how many memories must be behind their depth. How many things he must have seen over the years, things that hurt him and scared him, things that tore down his life and things that made him decide it was worth rebuilding.

He's trying. He'll keep being hurt because he's not going to stop. He cares.

I wonder if caring keeps him trapped, or if it sets him free. Or both.

"You really love her," I say.

"Yeah," he says.

He pulls into a parking space and we walk towards the hospital doors.


	28. Broken Promise

My Fault  
Chapter 28  
Broken Promise

**A note from the author: **Hello, thank you for reading to this point in my story! In case anyone is interested / did not see, I rewrote the first chapter and am planning to rewrite more. This story is getting close to the end and I am very excited!

**Kyo:**

Like when you come in from the cold and don't notice winter on you until your skin starts to burn, the absence of the beads makes their power more noticeable.

My lungs rattle with a long, slow breath as I lift the necklace over my head. With a shaking hand, I set the bead down on the rock beside me. I listen to the sound of the water, to wind in trees and faraway birds. I open my eyes, and for a moment, I'm okay.

Then the nekomata rises in me like a wave, slams down and breaks the surface of my mind. The feeling is sick, a collapsing-in sensation like a house earthquaking at the foundations. I try to struggle, to stack my thoughts into a wall and throw my weight against it, but I crumble, jumbled with feelings both my own and alien. Anger and confusion tumble over each other in the dark.

The spirit shakes, snakes through me. Lengthens my limbs and hands and spine. My head flies back and the spirit pushes itself to the forefront, forces me back into the space behind its eyes.

-/-/-

"It was a good first try."

"Not good enough."

"What did you expect would happen?"

I'd shrug, but Yuki is sitting on my shoulders. He's not heavy, but my ribs feel bruised from the fight. "Doesn't matter," I say. "Let me up."

He unfolds himself into a standing position, and I rise, stretching my limbs with a groan.

"Things aren't going to start working immediately," says Yuki.

"I know that," I growl. "It's just... you wouldn't understand. Having part of your being so totally alien to you."

"Maybe not in the same way you've felt that," he says. His eyes flicker over the water. The wind is light; waves hum across the surface and white sails stick out like feathers. "But give my experience _some _credit."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Maybe the alien feeling isn't just part of the curse. Maybe it's part of how it feels to be a person."

"Great. Either way it doesn't help me."

"I feel like that, sometimes." He looks back at me from the water. It's the longest he's ever looked at me, not glared or stared but just _looked. _"Like I'm different. I love life, and I love people, but I feel so far removed from them sometimes, and it's almost unbearable. Is that... the feeling you mean?"

I look at him too. His hands move over each other like a little kid's. "Yeah," I say.

His posture relaxes.

"Uh, thanks for telling me that," I say, even though I'm not sure what to do with the information.

"You're welcome."

Then, because I feel like I should say something too, I blurt out, "I had a dream about Kyoko. When I was underwater."

"What happened?"

"She told me to look after them."

"After who?"

"No idea. I know it probably doesn't mean anything, but it's kind of encouraging. Like, if I get stronger, I'll be able to do it, you know? Help people."

He says, "Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense."

Then I shut up, because the weirdness of talking to Yuki about my feelings is just too intense.

-/-/-

**Arisa:**

My mother lays on a hospital bed, red-black hair fanned over the pillow, her knees and elbows poking against the papery blanket. A needle sticks into the back of her left hand, held in place by tape.

I try not to think of the memories this brings back. Try not to think about late-night fights and waiting rooms, the disinfectant smell and the strange sounds of pain. But I can't help it. The smell is the same. The light is the same, the white that makes your eyes ache. But the sounds are different. Not waiting room sounds. No one is crying. No one is tapping their foot with a bag of vending machine food in their hands. No one is breaking down.

My mother is breathing. The sound is fragile and embarrassing to hear. This should be private. Or for someone who knows her better than I do. It is the sound of being completely out of it.

I sit down in the chair beside her bed. The legs scrape against the floor, which is white and dull with too many cleanings. I flinch, but she doesn't react to the sound. I sit down and look at my shoes, the old ones from before I met Gin. Tsukasa is out parking the car. I don't know what I'm supposed to do now.

I try to figure out my feelings towards the woman in the bed, and the part that bothers me most is that nothing floats to the surface of my thoughts. I don't want to think about whether or not I can forgive her. I don't want to think about what she did. I want her to be okay, and after that... I don't know.

She's my mother, but that's only biology. Beyond that, I really have no idea who she is.

-/-/-

**Jen:**

"_Don't look at me?"_

"_Junko, what happened? What's going on?"_

"_I'm – you should go. I'm really... I'm sick."_

"_That's okay, I'm here for you. You'll... you're going to get better."_

"_Please go."_

"_Okay. If that's what you want. But... why?"_

"_Because you're going to leave anyway."_

"_No, Junko, of course not. I... I love you, nothing's going to change that."_

_The room disintegrates into whiteness. I slump forward. His hands catching me is the last thing I feel._

-/-/-

**Arisa:**

"So this has happened before?"

Tsukasa nods once, as though it hurts him. "Not in a long time. But yeah."

"She'll be okay then?"

He doesn't answer. He is touching her hand, the one without the syringe. He moves his thumb up and down her skin. His hand shakes quite a bit. He seems afraid of breaking her.

"This isn't a coma, you said?" The words aren't supposed to come out as a question, but they do.

"No. She's just sleeping."

"Okay."

Tsukasa leaves the room, comes back with a bag of cookies from the vending machine. He holds them out to me and I say "No thanks." He puts them on the shelf beside the bed and seems to forget about them. He goes back to touching her hand.

Hours pass. There is no time here. Every time of day is quiet and white. Sometimes there are sounds of beds being rolled down the hallway, or the wordless tones of conversation on the other side of the wall. A lot of the voices are old and gumless. Some are reassuring and businesslike. A few are young, teenage, and I wonder if they're visiting people or sick themselves. It feels like the wrong place for them, the young voices. Like they've fallen through a gap between worlds.

Tsukasa's breath catches. His body jerks, and I'm not sure whether I see this or feel it from across the room. My mother's breathing is caught too, frozen in time with his.

Then she exhales. Tsukasa slumps. Nothing happens. I wonder if she is dreaming.

-/-/-

**Jen:**

"_Hey."_

"_You're still here."_

_The familiar feeling the hospital fabric. The unfamiliar weight of a shadow, a figure in the chair beside me. _

"_Yeah," he says softly. "Still here."_

"_I missed you."_

"_When you were sleeping?"_

"_Always. I think, before I met you, I still missed you. And now you're really here."_

_His eyes are light and water. "I missed you too."_

"_There are a lot of things I have to tell you."_

"_I'll listen."_

"_Thank you."_

-/-/-

**Arisa:**

"_Hh."_

I hadn't noticed my eyelids descending, but now they snap up.

"_Hey."_

Her brown eyes look up at me from across the rough sheets.

"H-hey."

"You came."

"Yeah. Of course."

"Thank you. I'm sorry."

"For what?" (After the words are out, I wonder if I'm being passive aggressive. If I'm asking because I'm not sure what she has to be sorry for, or because there is so much. But when I say it, it just seems like the thing to say.)

"Everything."

"Thanks."

She reaches out to me. Her hand is uncoordinated, like a video game she hasn't quite figured out the controls for. I let her take my hand. She squeezes weakly. I wonder how I was ever afraid of her and I want to cry, so much more than when she was asleep, to cry for everything bad that's ever happened to her and to me and to everyone ever. Because just in this room there is too much, and there is a whole world of more space out there.

"Should I wake up Tsukasa?" I say. He's still sitting in the chair, but his head is slumped on his chest.

"Let him know he can go home... get some sleep."

"I think he'd rather stay here with you."

"Okay. Arisa?"

"Yeah?"

"There's a lot I want to tell you."

"Okay."

"Will you be here... again?"

"Yeah. For sure."

"Thank you."

She closes her eyes. Her hand squeezes mine, then slips away.

-/-/-

**Jen:**

I tell him I'm dying. That I'm going to be sick for the rest of my life. He says he'll be here for me, he'll read up on M.S., he loves me and he'll stay with me and do whatever he can. And I know it's not enough, he says, But I'll be here, and I'll look after you, and I'll do anything I can to help.

"_Why?"_

"_Because I love you."_

"_But... why?"_

"_Is it really so hard to believe I might feel the same way for you as you do for me?"_

_I answer honestly. "Yes."_

_He leans his head close to me. I breathe the clean scent of his hair. "I'm sorry," he says._

"_It's not your fault."_

"_Things have been unfair for you."_

"_I messed them up myself. Not this part, but... most of them. I have a daughter."_

_After a pause, he says, "What's her name?"_

"_Arisa."_

"_That's beautiful."_

"_I left her. I haven't seen her in years."_

"_You love her. That's what matters."_

"_Not if I don't act on it."_

"_You still have time."_

-/-/-

It's scary to know, that you're going to die. I don't think I should admit that. I think I'm supposed to have wisdom, some kind of internal strength I've developed from the experience. A feeling like I've learned something and used it to make my life worthwhile. I didn't. I don't.

I feel like the world should be run by someone smarter than me. That the laws of the universe should have a clear purpose and life should have a meaning and everything should happen for a reason. But when you think that you can suddenly stop existing, it doesn't seem that way. It feels like one thing after another, arbitrary and chaotic. It feels like a nightmare.

I get scared, start thinking "What have I done with my life? Was I here for a reason and I just missed it?" I guess that fear can make some people wise. Help them find meaning, answer questions they never knew that had. No one tells you these thoughts can also make you stupid. That you can get so caught up looking for Experiences, for some great secret to life, that you forget other people also have lives, and that you fit into them. You search for instant, mind-bursting happiness, and everything you used to care about falls apart when you're not looking. You're so scared of the future you forget your life is in present tense.

I really am sorry. I did try. Not hard enough, and not in the right ways, but I tried. I guess that doesn't make a difference, when I messed things up so much more than they were before. I wish I'd been someone you could rely on. I wish I hadn't let you down over and over. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.


	29. Decisions

My Fault  
Chapter 29  
Decisions

**a note from the author: **Thank you so much to **Anonymous Human** for the helpful and encouraging review, and for the messages we exchanged which gave me a lot of ideas for this story.

**Kyo:**

The next day, Yuki and I head towards the museum. Neither of us mentions it, but we both know the money from Ayame and the boat won't last us forever, and at this rate not even until the end of the month. But we pay admission, because right now, this seems the best place to go.

The museum is huge but quiet. The halls are filled with people, but when they talk, their voices are worn-out breezes. I remember school, writing exams and taking notes, and I think how odd it is to miss that. I think of how it felt to know, that after class was over, Arisa and I would talk to each other and complain about how much work we had to do, and it felt good, to talk to someone like that. The important things under the surface, sometimes rising up in the way she'd smile a bit too sadly, or she'd touch my hand and I wouldn't want to let go. The feeling that we had a lot to talk about, but didn't have to say those things now. There was still time.

I've zoned out in front of a suit made of sword-scarred leather scales, my eyes running over the pattern, over and over without seeing it. I walk down the hall, seeing the different swords and helmets, some battered and others shiny and unused. I wonder how it would have felt to wear that, the cold weight pressing around your body to keep the blades away. I wonder how Eri felt, being the only one on the battlefield without these defences. I wonder which blade finally brought him down, and whether he was angry, or sad, or grateful, or just tired when it happened.

Yuki taps my shoulder and I almost jump. I remember when I would have yelled at him for something like that, a wave of fire flaring over my emotions, but instead I say, "What?"

He points down an adjoining hallway, says, "Did you see over there?"

I shake my head and walk towards the reason we came here.

As I enter the hall, a tapestry of a kappa glowers at me with yellow eyes, and some sort of wolf-creature roars at a painted sky. Behind glass, a woodblock print of a nekomata. Large and orange, sharp eyes staring out from the dark space around it. Two tails twist behind the figure and I take a moment to think what that could mean - two forms? Two beings in one body? I push away the frail attempt at symbolism - probably someone just had a two-tailed cat and freaked out about it.

The next print depicts another nekomata, lying on its side in grass, a sacred arrow piercing its skull.

None of this changes the fact that these look nothing at all like my true form. I search frantically in the ink for some of the distortion, the long heavy arms, the huge claws and crooked spine, but these nekomata have orange fur, not green-tinted, leathery skin. These figures are huge for cats, but nowhere near the size of a person, much less actually bigger than people. No violet eyes, and no sign that they ever used to be anything but a cat, demonic or otherwise.

Something hurts in my chest, and I'm sure I can feel my skin stretching, my bones morphing. I run my tongue over my teeth. Smooth. I touch my face. I'm still me. My hand reaches for the single juzu bead around my neck, traces the familiar texture of the wood. I don't look down at the dye, the blood-dye.

Okay. No matter how ridiculous the nekomata sounds, I can't dismiss it as a myth. Not when I know so much weirder stuff is true. When I _am _one of those weirder things.

I find the plaques beside the artwork and begin to read.

-/-/-

Yuki finds me in front of the Hokusai exhibit, my gaze slipping up and down the waves of blue paint.

"I didn't know you like art," says Yuki.

"Everyone likes art," I say.

He doesn't argue with me, and this reminds me, again, how far I am from the life I'm used to.

At night, we eat cheap soba in our hotel room. He asks me what I thought of the exhibit, and I look into my noodles and say, "It gave me a lot to think about."

He leaves it at that, and after we throw away the empty styrofoam bowls, he goes to type an email to his brother and I stand on the balcony and look at the yellow squares of windows below me.

The words from the museum rattle through my head. Myths of destruction caused by the nekomata, firestarting and curses. A strange connection to the dead.

I'd say possession by an almost-zodiac spirit qualifies as strange.

Maybe some of the nekomata did look like me, just a little, the distorted proportions that let them walk on their hind legs. Sometimes the tails of cats were cut off, I read, to prevent them splitting in two, making the cat a nekomata. That's all they started out as. Just cats. The same as the ones that follow me in the streets, press their heads against my hand and purr.

Even telling Arisa about _that_ form, harmless and small, I felt like my heart would stop. The only way I could keep talking was because I knew if I didn't say anything, it would be worse.

I don't know that this time. I don't know if I leave her alone, stay out of her life, if that would be better for her. But I owe her answers. I know that much.

I think of Tohru's face, her eyes wide, her skin pale as I pushed her away. The sick feeling all through my body as I saw the damage I'd done, her shirt torn, her neck and shoulder bleeding. There was no sound outside, but the inside of my head was all percussion.

But she stayed. What… what does that mean?

One thing that's the same, between the myth and me - the nekomata's a vengeance spirit. It destroys whatever's around it.

But she stayed.

I know most people wouldn't.

I don't blame them. Her. It was… it was her choice, right? You can't _make _someone live for you. But it throws everything you know out of balance, when someone says, "I love you little one," "Just wear your beads, everything will be fine," "You're safe now," "Everything will be fine," "I love you." Maybe she did. Maybe there's a limit to how much you can love someone, and what it took to live with me was just too much.

I _don't _blame her.

Tohru stayed. I repeat it to myself, over and over, as my hands grip the cold metal of the banister. I breathe the air. It tastes like night. Tohru stayed. Each time, the words sound foreign, unexpected, a surprise. A dream. No, not a dream. _Real. _The type of real you can only think about in short bursts before you get overwhelmed, like when you read about the size of the solar system, or in the newspaper about people running back into burning buildings to save a stranger. The type of thing that you know is true, but that flips all your thoughts upside down because it's so outside what you believe about how the world works.

She stayed.

Even knowing what I am, or who, I have a friend. And Yuki, Kagura, Shishou… they're here. Not all here at this moment, but… they don't hate me.

Shishou would want me to tell her.

_Maybe she won't hate me. _I look down at the yellow boxes, each of which holds someone, going about their separate evenings behind the bright pane of light. _And even if she does, I owe her the truth. _

I listen to the sound of the wind and try to convince myself I'm doing the right thing.

-/-/-

The sudden silence snaps at me, and I realize Yuki's stopped typing. I turn back to see him walking towards me. "So you and Ayame are emailing now?" I say.

"Yes. I... kind of felt I owed him," Yuki says softly.

"I'm going to talk to Arisa soon." The words come out in a rush. "I mean, she's the reason I came here. It's stupid of me to keep putting it off."

He's quiet for a long time. I breath the dark air in and out. He says, "You think about her a lot, don't know?"

"Yeah. Like you think about Tohru, I guess."

Another long pause. Then: "She emailed me today."

"Tohru? What'd she say?"

"She's coming here. She and Hana-san."

"You told her where we were going?"

"No, but... she must have known. She's pretty perceptive, and... where else would we go?"

It's a good point.

I say, "What did you tell her?"

"I didn't answer yet. I think I need to sleep before I decide."

I nod, though I'm not sure what he has to decide. It all seems pretty simple to me, but trust the prince to overanalyze everything.

Later that night, I lie down and feel the blank buzz of sleep start to fill my head. My eyes roam the insides of their lids as they follow imaginary shadows. The shapes of darkness shift like sand dunes.

The dark shapes gather, form legs and a head, with two emptinesses that shine like eyes.

_Hey, nekomata, _I think at it. _Or whatever you are._

The figure turns to me. In its mouth are two rows of emptiness sharpened into teeth. Its shadow-spine curves, a taut branch ready to spring. I wait for the shape to cover me, close around and swallow me. I don't look away.

But the pounce never comes.

The nekomata waits. And I walk. My dream-legs are heavy and my skin is cold.

I don't try to run. I don't strike first. I concentrate on my legs, and make them move.

The nekomata closes its eyes as I approach. When it opens them, slowly, its eyes are not blank. They are brown-orange and filled with light, intricate and delicate in that way only eyes are. Human eyes. I look at them for a long time, listening to the nekomata breathe, before I realize they're my eyes.

I jolt myself awake to darkness


	30. Rain

My Fault  
Chapter Thirty  
Rain

Thank you to Anonymous Human for the review and messages, and for recommending an excellent song to go with this chapter: **Ground by Assemblage 23 (album version).**

**Yuki:**

"So what does this have to do with you?" I asked.

"This is where it gets weirder," he said. "I think something happened in the past, something that changed the curse. Something about the nekomata is being kept secret.

"When I was in the cage, I had a lot of time to think. And a lot of what we've been taught… it doesn't make sense. We have all these traditions, but traditions don't last unless there's some kind of logic behind them. Akito's not telling us the meaning."

"I can believe that," I say, "but how are we supposed to find out what that is?

"The Sohma family isn't the only group with a mythology. There's been myths since forever, and they overlap, Sohma history and all. I think… in the overlap, some things have to be true."

"Information about the zodiac."

"Yeah. There's cat demons everywhere in myths, but no reference to… that thing. My true form. Even the family doesn't have an explanation, just that it's a curse. There's so many records of past cats, but that part of the curse isn't mentioned until Eri. That only makes sense if something changed."

"Maybe it's still changing," I say. "What about Akito? It always seemed strange to me, for a god to be dying. Just… wearing out." It feels inappropriate to say this. Sacrilegious, I suppose. The cold of the dark room rises up in my bones and I fight the urge to shiver.

"Either there's something he's not telling us, or there's something he doesn't know."

"Then how are we supposed to find it out?"

"Same way anyone finds out anything."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, we research. And if that doesn't work... we test things out."

-/-/-

**Kyo:**

Morning creeps through my eyelids, slow and sticky. An arrhythmic drumming batters the windows and my eardrums, and it's several minutes before my brain is able to process what's going on.

Rain.

"You're finally up," says Yuki. I sit and turn my head to see him empty the kettle into two bowls of instant miso.

"Hey," I snap, "I'm allowed to sleep... in... once in a while. Not like you always... keep me waiting... or anything."

I concentrate all my energy on not slumping back down into bed. The inside of my head is heavy, full of dense clouds, and my thoughts move slow as syrup.

"Did you sleep alright?" says Yuki. "You sounded like you were having a nightmare."

"Fine." I drag my body over to the table, stare down at the swirls of miso. I notice, surprised, that it's the kind with no leeks in it. "Thanks for breakfast," I mumble.

"You're welcome. Do you still want to train today?"

"Yeah, of course! Why... wouldn't..." The cold tones of the rain press in around me and drain away the energy to finish that sentence.

"You're sure?"

I nod.

Training is one of those ideas that sounded great when I had it, but now I have to constantly remind myself why I'm doing this. The logic was something like, I feel most myself when I'm doing martial arts – there's this peace that moves all through me, flows from my center out into my limbs, so that when I move I feel like... me. My true form, it's almost like the reverse of that feeling. My thoughts fly out of order, and my body warps around the chaos. I though that I could bring the two together somehow, get the self-control together to cancel out the nekomata.

Or at least if I can't, Yuki can keep me from rampaging through the city.

"Alright, then. Where do you want to go train?"

"Far," I say. "Away from where people are."

-/-/-

**Yuki:**

I've never been good at understanding people, but Kyo takes this incomprehensibility to the next level. These last few weeks, away from school and routine and everything I'm familiar with, I've been doing more thinking than I'm comfortable with; thinking about if the issue isn't that I can't understand him, but that I didn't want to.

After Akito took Kyo away, I didn't understand. Not the look in his face, the light drained from his eyes as he stared at the dirt. Or the way his whole figure seemed to get smaller, spine bent, pride gone. I didn't understand how he could let this happen. Why he didn't fight Akito off. Why he didn't fight _me _off.

He could have transformed. Any time, he could have changed. Swiped at me with heavy claws. Finished this. He could have _won. _

But even when we were kids, he never would have tried that. He must have thought about it. Every day inside the Sohma family, Akito and everyone else reminding him of his differentness, seeing the bloodstained beads every time he looked down at his hands – there's no way he could forget, not for an hour.

And he'd rather be locked away, forever, than risk it. Losing control. There are things worse than losing a fight.

I think that's what bothers me about him. The violence and impulsiveness – that's all surface. But knowing he has the capacity to care so much about others, when he's been through worse than most people can imagine... that's what makes me feel awful. Because while he would give up his whole future before he risked hurting anyone, I spent every day of my childhood learning to feel less, for myself or for anyone else. Sometimes I feel frozen inside. There are things that can't be learned, but they can be forgotten.

We walk through grey panes of rainfall, black hotel umbrellas bobbing above our heads. I don't look at my watch but we must walk for over an hour. Kyo is pale but keeps up with me without complaining.

Then, about forty minutes in, I notice it. The smell on the air, that I'd assumed to be something rotting in the rain, isn't quite right. It's worse than the scent of decaying vegetation, much worse. And as far as we walk, it isn't going away. If anything, it's worsening.

I have to look twice – in the shadow of his umbrella, his pupils have lengthened into slits. His irises waver between orange and indigo, colours breaking through each other like drops of ink. He's not pale anymore; his skintone isn't anything found on humans. A distinctly greenish shade of tan.

"Do you want to go back?"

"No," he says, teeth gritted. For just a moment, I'm sure I see a change in the shape of his face, features stretched out and wild. Then it's gone. "This is why we came here."

"You're sure?" I say, though I know he is.

"Yeah. But I think we're going to have to go farther than we planned."

-/-/-

**Kyo:**

I can feel it, when the change comes on. Like a layer of glass breaking, a threshhold being crossed. The glass isn't broken yet, but the cracks are there. Thoughts slip through the gaps and fall out of order; when the layer is broken, everything inside me will fall out of order. Emotions and ideas will swirl in a black storm, moving too fast to hold on to any of them;just a loud, pounding sense of fear and hate and anger, covering me up, like water can cover your ears and block out the world.

Right now I'm thinking of Eri. And I'm thinking of my mom, and I'm thinking of Shishou, and I'm thinking of Arisai. I'm wondering if Eri had people he cared about, and I'm thinking he must have, there's only so far you can dehumanize someone. I'm thinking how I really would do anything, anything to bring her back, because it's not fair for me to be in this world when she isn't, it's not fair that she left this world because of me. And no matter what Shishou says, about me having as much a right to happiness as anyone, it doesn't change that if I wasn't here, she would be. And that would be fair.

I'm thinking how I would do anything for Shishou too, but all he wants is for me to be okay and I don't know if I can do that. I don't know how I can tell Arisa without him here. I'm not afraid of her not accepting my form. I'm expecting that. I don't need her to love that part of me.

What I'm afraid of is finding out Akito was right. Finding out Eri's captors were right. That that form is who I really am, _all _I really am. The nekomata was brought into the curse to be a warrior. And a warrior without a war is just a killer.

"Kyo? Kyo, is this far enough?"

He's been speaking for a while, I realize. I finally look at the landscape around me, discover we're close to the ocean but shadowed by hills, out of sight. Not that anyone is out on a day like this.

"Yeah," I say.

"Do you want to sit down for a bit?"

The grasses and the grey sky flicker between human colours and the nekomata colour spectrum, colours I don't have words for. "No," I say, "I'm fine. Let's start."

We bow to each other, and begin to spar.

-/-/-

**Yuki:**

I block Kyo's kicks and punches easily, resist the instinct to counter most strongly than I have to. It's taken a long time for my mind to learn to trust people, and it's taking my body even longer. But it comes easier than it used to, and for a long stretch of time, we block each other's moves, neither of us at full force but our technicality better than ever. The adrenaline released by fear and anger can make you stronger, but it also stops you from thinking clearly. And thinking clearly is the point of this exercise.

And I think for Kyo, it's working. Even on the slick hillside, he doesn't stumble. His skin has returned to its normal tan tone, only a faint touch of green, and a hopeful part of me says that might be shadows. His eyes focus on me with small round pupils.

"You're holding back," he says.

"You're not at full strength today –"

"I'm good! This is –" he dodges a punch – "the first time all day I've actually felt okay. Let's go!"

"Okay," I say, and with a kick I send him backwards. But he catches himself before he falls, and when he looks up, he's grinning. Teeth no more pointed than usual.

**Kyo:**

I think you have to be a martial artist to really get it. That sense of freedom, where every cell of you moves in synchronicity and you just feel _right _in yourself. I know people think it's about the violence, or showing off, but they don't understand that sense of control. How you can get so caught up in doing something you love that you completely hand yourself over to that feeling, and for a moment you don't think about anything else.

Something's changed. I move more easily through the rain than before.

Yuki blocks one of my punches, grabs me by the arm and tries to flip me. I swing my body and reverse the hold, and he counteracts just quickly enough that although we're both offbalance, neither of us falls. We're breathing hard, the rain sharpening our hair to points we have to brush out of our eyes.

I fight better when I don't hate him. Back home, I always thought martial arts was _my _thing, that he came in late and tried to take it away from me. But I think when you have time to think, nothing but time and nothing but thoughts, you start going over memories. And that time with Shishou, the smell of mountain air and hot-spring water, the taste of burnt food and laughing and the full-body feeling of happiness... no one can take that away, not Yuki and not Akito. I know the feeling of different holds, of throwing someone and being thrown. It's etched into my brainwaves and muscle memory.

"It's late," says Yuki "We should go back."

My whole body stops. "We didn't do what we came for." My fingers tighten around the bead.

"We can try tomorrow," he says. "I don't think this is a good day."

"What are you talking about? I'm fine –"

"You weren't earlier."

Anger boils under my skin. "Don't talk like you know how I feel better than I do."

"Kyo, please, just listen –"

"No, you listen for once!"

The words burst out of me and I know I've lost that balance I'd felt, and I also know I can't stop. I never can; Yuki tries to help me and here I am, yelling at him. Instead of making me less pissed off, this realization just makes me pissed at myself as well.

More cracks in the glass. A deep-red headache spreads over my mind.

"You always have to control everyone, even though you don't know the first thing about people!" I yell. "I'm barely even a person and even I can tell!"

When he speaks, his voice is quiet. "We can come back this evening. But for now, Kyo, let's go."

The rain pounds against my shoulders and the back of my neck. My clothes are soaked through, heavy against my body.

"And of course you're a person," he says.

"Then let me make my own decisions."

He says, "Okay."

"I can do this; I'm not gonna transform."

"Okay."

He looks at me with an expression I can't read. Mouth thin, hands in his pockets. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was sad. Another wave of fire washes over me. He won't look away from my eyes.

Around him, the landscape flickers between grey and indescribable. I reach for the bead.


	31. Transformation

My Fault  
Chapter Thirty-One  
Transformation

Thank you so much to Anonymous Human for the encouraging review and very helpful messages, and for suggesting a very fitting song to go with this chapter: **Save Me by Fractured (full version)**. Also, I would like to recommend Anonymous Human's excellent Fruits Basket fanfiction to anyone who is reading this.

**Kyo**

_Is this what you wanted, Shishou? _

A rush of cold bursts through my veins. My hands spasm as muscles twist to reconfigure themselves. The ancient bead slips from my grasp, into the mud.

The change is never instant, never… complete. My body distorts, a nauseating shift in center of gravity and a rough yank on my spinal cord. My limbs suddenly weigh too much, as though all the bones in my hands and feet have turned to stone. My head is heavy.

The rain pounds like a migraine; each drop throbs as it strikes me. Newly sensitive ears pick up each sound, fixate on the lack of rhythm and play it back over and over and over. New colours press hard against my eyes and the inside of my head is clouded, a distance between thoughts that prevents me from seeing how they connect - but I know they do. I don't feel like I'm losing my mind - I feel lost inside my mind, and when even thinking hurts, that's not a place I want to be.

I haven't felt this in a long time, but I've felt it before. I hadn't even transformed.

(_you see that boy over there see the one the orange hair yes that one it was his mother really yes yes it was her what's he doing that boy why is he out doesn't even cry doesn't even react something's wrong with that boy you know what they say about the cat cursed_

_shut up shut up shut up you don't know me yeah i'm looking at you keep talking i dare you you don't know you don't_

_oh what a strange boy it's unnatural a child like that no wonder no wonder it was so _

_so_

_hard on her, anyone, a child like that, anyone -)_

The nekomata never totally takes over. And that incompleteness, that's the worst part about changing. Knowing it's me inside there. That everything I've done, it's always been me.

_(nobody look at my child.)_

**Yuki**

I've seen him change before, but it's not the kind of thing you can get used to. His eyes change first - indigo bursts through his irises and his pupils jolt into slits. His eyes widen, then harden into a glare. His spine elongates and collapses forward under the weight of his heavy hands. The bead tumbles from his claws into the mud, and when I move to pick it up, he growls. He places a claw over top of the necklace.

"I just want to keep it…" I stop myself before I say "safe". Even like this, he knows how much he needs the bead. "To hold on to it."

He lifts his claw, and I step under to pick up the artifact. I wipe the mud on the bottom of my soaked-through shirt.

The bead doesn't feel like I expected. Not… cursed. The ancient bone is smooth and cool.

I step back and he lowers his claw back to the ground with a thud.

"Why aren't you afraid of me?" he says. His voice is louder, and echoes like its come from far away. But it's still his voice.

"I trust you," I say.

His night-sky eyes fix on my shoes. "Why?"

I turn the bead over between my fingers, unable to get over the feel. I know what it is, so why doesn't it bother me? Why am I not disgusted?

I say, "Because you're a good person."

He swings a claw at me. His aim is wild, but he's fast enough to connect with my shoulder before I can dodge. I slam to the ground. "Stop lying!" I pick myself up quickly, but can already feel a warm bruise bloom through my arm and shoulder.

"I wasn't lying," I say. Years of training keep my legs from shaking, but I still have to fight the urge to back away. The air is thick with the smell, the worst, rotting smell I've ever experienced, and it's an effort to keep my breathing even. My vision swims with black spots. "The truth can be harder to accept than a lie."

He swings again, but this time I sidestep so easily I wonder if he missed on purpose. "Why - won't - you - go?" With each syllable he takes a step towards me, rises up with a claw prepared to strike. He's much bigger than me like this; my defences stand no chance if he decides not to hold back.

But, I remind myself, he's never taken that opportunity before.

The smell of rotten meat is deep inside my nostrils, and it takes every effort not to cough - I know if I start, I'll vomit.

I inhale carefully. "You shouldn't have to be alone like this."

"You know - you know what I did. Why are you acting like it's nothing?"

_What did you do?_ I want to ask. But a second later, I know.

After his mother's suicide, that was all anyone in the family spoke about when Kyo's name was mentioned. I'd see him, sitting by himself, always by himself, glaring at anyone who walked past. He wouldn't move for hours; he'd stay out until his father told him to go back to the house.

Sometimes I'd look out my window at night, and Kyo would still be there, still alone. I wondered if his father had forgotten about him. Or if he just didn't want him to come home.

"You didn't do anything wrong," I say. He immediately charges at me, slams the palm of a claw into me before I can dodge. My feet leave the ground, and my lungs painfully expel all the air inside me as my back connects with the hillside. He stands back, watches me as I choke, trying to pull oxygen back inside me. My entire inside spasms.

It feels like an eternity before I can draw in enough air to speak. "I know… I can't understand what it was like… what you went through. But I also know you didn't deserve it."

I rise to my feet and he steps closer, but with all claws on the ground. He pushes his face up to mine, and I fall backwards into the mud, lean back on my hands. His dark eyes bore into mine, and I feel like I'll be sucked into the intensity of their colour, like a sky or an ocean, a force so much bigger than me. I feel the warmth of his breath; i'm surprised it doesn't smell worse. Maybe I'm starting to get used to it, I think, but immediately correct myself. It's not the kind of thing you can get used to. The rotting smell is him, his body, not something inside him.

"What happened wasn't anyone's fault," I say. I'm so full of adrenaline I feel like I'm going to fly out of my skin. I realize I'm shaking hard. I hold tightly to the bead, concentrate on its sacred energy. "Sometimes horrible things happen, and I don't know why but I know it isn't your fault. You were just a kid, and no kid should have to… have to go through that. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But… but maybe the way you loved her so much, maybe that kept her alive a bit longer."

He blinks. His eyes have changed - orange streaks glow like a sunset.

I touch his shoulder and he flinches, but doesn't move away. His skin is leathery, but warm. "You're doing the right thing," I say. "Trying to make things better. You don't have to fix everything all at once, but the fact that you're trying - a monster wouldn't do that. That's why Arisa loves you - because you're good."

With each blink, his eyes grow more orange. "Thanks," he says quietly. His teeth shorten and his claws shrink down into hands and feet. "Can we go home now?"

I hand him the bead. "Yes," I say.

He takes the bead in his hand, turns it over in his fingers. He sits up, knees folded to his chest. The rain dances in the puddles around us, reflected in his eyes. As he watches the rain and I watch him, I notice red in his eyes beyond that of their usual orange tones. I wonder if all the water on his face is from the rain. As droplets bounce off him shoulders, I realize they're shaking.

"Are you okay?" I say.

"Yeah. Just… can we sit for a while?"

I walk down beside him, pick our umbrellas out of the mud, even though we're already soaked. "Of course."

**Kyo**

It's not so much what Yuki says as the fact that he stays to say it.

I try to make him leave. This is what he wanted, isn't it? To know that I can't do it, can't handle being without the beads. Well fine. You've won again. Now go.

Go! I strike him, push him to the ground, anything to stop him lying, acting like everything's okay, like it's going to get better now. His words rattle in my head worse than the rain.

But he never goes. Never believes I'm going to hurt him. That trust hurts more than anything he's ever done to me before. And in that time, I really have no idea what I'm going to do.

Thoughts shuffle through my head like cards, reminding me why I can't trust him, why I can't trust myself. Her eyes open in my mind, permanently etched on the inside of my eyelids, looking into me when I sleep. Her features are on my face, each look in the mirror reminding me what I've done.

He knows that. He KNOWS. If I'm capable of that, why the hell doesn't he realize what I could do to him?

GET OUT.

As he lies, maybe not even knowing he's lying, I push him. No claws, just… get him away from me. I can't stand this. I can't do this. Not now, and maybe not ever.

What I want, more than anything else, is not to exist.

But he doesn't even stop talking. "You didn't deserve it," he says. As though it was something that happened to me, rather than something I did.

When I walk up to him, he's shaking. His eyes are wide, and he's as pale as the snow he was named after. He's absolutely terrified.

But he believes what he's about to say so much that he's willing to ignore all logic and instinct to say it.

Something inside me breaks, a rubber band stretched to the limit, and I'm back with Shishou.

_The day is sunny, the sky bright and the air warm against my face. That makes it worse - the mismatch of the outside world and my insides. A reminder of my distance from this place. _

_It's not my fault. It's not my fault. _

_I know._

_And I know he believes me more than I ever believed myself. That he thinks I'm innocent, not-evil, good. That's more than I can handle. My missing her floods through me, knocks down all my other thoughts, and I'm sure I'll burst. He holds me as I cry. I never cry, not since I was very young, at least not in front of anyone. He doesn't let me be embarrassed - he holds on to me and I feel his heartbeat against my ear. I feel very young and small and tired. But even as my longing and desperation pours out of me, projected out as though it could somehow reach her - I would do anything to reach her - I feel… safe. _

_It's not something I've felt in a long time. _

"What happened wasn't anyone's fault," says Yuki. I'm not sure whether or not I believe him. My thoughts are spinning and I'm not sure of anything at this point. But I'm listening. He speaks fast. This is the fastest I've ever heard him speak, words tumbling out one after the other, repeating. His usual composure torn to shreds.

"Maybe the way you loved her so much, maybe that kept her alive a bit longer."

It's not a good feeling, hearing him say that. For some reason, it actually feels worse. The flood inside me has turned from water to ice.

I want to yell at him, to call him a liar again, but I know he believes what he's saying. That whether or not she did, he believes I'm worth staying alive for. To hear this from him, of all people… it's too much. I feel my brain start to shut down.

And suddenly, I miss everyone. My mom, and Shishou, and Arisa, and everyone back home. I know I have to go back. Even if I say the wrong things, it's better than saying nothing.


	32. Myth

**a note from the author**: Thank you so much to Anonymous Human for the helpful and encouraging feedback. Because there has been some confusion in terms of when events take place, here is a recap of recent events:

- Kyo researches the nekomata and discusses his findings with Yuki, leading to the "where it gets weirder" conversation.  
-This leads to training sessions, resulting in a failed attempt to take off the bead without transforming.  
-Kyo and Yuki go to the museum to try and learn more about the nekomata.  
-Kyo has a dream about the nekomata.  
-Another training session, resulting in another transformation - but also Kyo changing back.

The last scene in the last chapter was the same as the previous scene, but was Kyo's point of view of the events rather than Yuki's.

My Fault  
Chapter Thirty-Two  
Myth

Yuki and I walk in silence.

Our umbrellas hang at our sides, closed. The rain washes the mud from our clothes. The rain-soaked streets are the colour of ashes. Neon signs in shop windows glow like embers.

We don't bother to avoid the streets on our way back. Nobody is out. And if anyone was, all they would see are two drenched teenagers.

"I'm sorry," I say when we're back at the hotel room.

"It's fine."

That's the last we say for a while. I take a shower, try to force some warmth back under my skin. I'm only half-successful, and when Yuki goes to do the same, I look out the window with a blanket wrapped around me. The rain is starting to slow down, but the evening streets are dark grey and the window pane rattles. A few people walk by with umbrellas, and I wonder where they're going.

I'm not happy. But I'm too worn out to feel bad, either.

"What are you watching?" says Yuki.

I hadn't heard him come out, but I'm not startled. Nothing more that happens today can startle me. "Just people," I say.

"Are you hungry?"

I'm surprised to realize I am. "Yeah."

"It's my turn to cook, I think."

"We could order in."

"Hm." I practically hear him punching buttons in his mental calculator, adding up the prices.

"The cost doesn't matter. We'll be home soon anyway."

He nods, but doesn't say anything.

We order in seafood, eat while listening to the sound of the pipes in the walls. Yuki says, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Do you know where the beads came from?"

I look up from my fish soba. "A priest."

"Why?"

"They had to find a way to control the cat."

"Why would he choose to do that?"

"I thought that was pretty obvious."

"But it's a big sacrifice to make. What if there's something there that we missed?"

Since I started looking into the nekomata, I'd never given the beads much thought. I'm not sure what he's getting at, but I say, "I'll google it."

**Yuki**

I find Kyo looking at the computer, brow furrowed.

"What's wrong?" I say.

"Nothing," he says. "But read this."

He highlights a section of the page about Eri Sohma. The history website describes how the warrior had spent much of his earlier life in isolation, as the result of an unknown illness. A caretaker, a priest named Hirohito Akifumi, had raised him.

_"Akifumi, his longtime friend and caretaker, died when Sohma was approximately seventeen years old. Shortly after, Sohma's illness appears to have subsided significantly, marking his return to public. Records describe his social presence as introverted and shy, a sharp contrast to the reputation he acquired shortly after, as one of the most fearsome warriors Japan has ever seen."_

"The beads were Akifumi-san's final gift," I say quietly.

"Or he was killed for them," says Kyo.

"No. They would have told you if he was… Akito would never deprive you of something else to feel guilty for."

Kyo is quiet.

"And besides," I say, "the energy from the beads… it's calm. If they weren't given willingly, the beads wouldn't work."

"How do you know that?"

"Just… intuition, I guess."

"You always seemed more the logical type."

"People change, I guess. But when you touch the bead, can't you feel what I mean?"

Kyo nods slowly, says, "Yeah. I think I do. Just… it's a lot to take in. The nekomata having a friend… it's harder to accept than him being all alone."

**Kyo**

I fall asleep thinking about Eri. Whether Akifumi really cared for him, or was just hired by the family. The bead is cold and silent as it rests on my chest.

The night covers me like a cocoon.

-/-/-

I have no name for this place, but I know where I am. I've come here often. Visits I forget the moment I open my eyes, but remember again when I close them.

The streets are empty; I know without looking that the houses on either side of them are too. This is not a place to live. Wind bounces hollow sounds off the walls and makes the back of my neck prickle with cold. Heads of flowers scatter through the streets, their asphalt-bruised petals browning at the edges. There must be hundreds of flowers. Even damaged, they're the only source of colour in sight. And they form a path, an uneven line that ends at my sneakers.

My footsteps reverberate loudly.

I'm not sure how long I walk. Time doesn't work the same here. But when the throne appears in sight, I've already known every inch of it, known it's splintery wood and too-high legs, the rusted nails and seat too high for any human to reach, proportions like a cartoon. I know these as strongly as I _know _that this is a throne.

And the girl sitting in its shadow is the queen.

Her black eyes turn to me as I stand before her. "Are you the monster?" she says. Her voice is free of malice, the curious voice of a very small child. And her mouth doesn't move as the sound comes out of her.

"I'm Kyo," I say.

"Someone was looking for you."

"Tell them I'm here."

"He knows."

The sky glows and blackens at the edges, like someone has pressed a flame to grey paper. And where the paper burns away, shadows ooze from the holes. The dark mass flows to the ground and then rises up above me, falls like a wave and hardens into a lizard-like form.

If the empty eyes of the nekomata can be said to focus on anything, they are focused on me. My body locks down, frozen.

"You surprise me," says the nekomata. Like with the girl, the sound passes directly into my mind, echoes off the walls of my skull.

I try to answer, but my mouth won't move. Then I try, not quite sure how, to _think _at the nekomata instead.

"How did I do that?"

Whatever I've done, it works, because the nekomata answers. "In hundreds of years, you are the second to come look for me."

"Who was the first?"

"I do not know names. A council pulled me from the ground where I slept. They took me from the place where I grew through roots and breathed through wind. I knew the sound of the opening leaf and the thoughts of the grass. Since your family, I have lost that."

"I'm sorry."

"You do not care about me. You want your own life."

"I do want that. I'm still sorry though."

"I have felt your thoughts. Your hatred is not a secret."

"Okay... yeah. I did used to hate you."

"And now?"

"Now... I don't think I know you very well. Every time I transformed, I was still _me... _So what does that make you?"

"The same as your family members. A myth."

"So you don't exist?"

"I exist enough to have had people give their lives for and against me. My existence is known to more than yours will ever be, and I have lived longer than anyone you know. Decide for yourself whether or not I am real."

"Okay, you're real. But why are you _here?"_

"Your family did not give me any say in that matter."

"No, I meant here, in me. If all the zodiac members are just myths, why am I the only one with this curse?"

Thinking isn't like talking. You can't stop yourself before you say the wrong thing, even if you're about to say the wrong thing to a killer cat-demon ten times stronger than you. Thought-speech is pretty shitty for diplomatic issues.

The nekomata thinks, "Myths go where we are believed in."

"And the cat believed harder in you?"

"You have been taught all your life to do so."

The girl takes a seat cross-legged beside the nekomata. She smiles blankly and fixes her black eyes on me. Images float through them like bright fish in murky water. Akito stares out at me, his sleeve pressed over his nose. She blinks, and the image is replaced by a small orange-haired boy, his back to me as he gazes out a window, the way I spent much of my childhood. She blinks again, and my fists clench, hands icy. My mother looks out at me, her last sad smile on the last day I saw her. Mouth moves in goodbye, and she turns her back –

"Stop." I say. "Who are you?"

I realize I've spoken out loud. The spell that's been holding me still, or the fear, is broken. Or at least, pushed aside in my need for answers.

My lungs hurt with the strain of keeping my breathing even.

"I'm no one." Her voice drifts through my mind, sickly sweet. "Only a remainder of the waking world."

"Did you... make her?" I ask the nekomata.

He shakes his heavy head. "She is of your thoughts."

"She's my thoughts, and you're my beliefs."

"I am no more yours than you are mine. I subsist on your beliefs, yes, but you did not bring me into being any more than I did you."

"And if I stopped believing in you, you'd just disappear?"

"I know you, Kyo. Could you stop believing in something you have seen for yourself?"

"Okay," I say. "I get it. Are you saying there's nothing I can do?"

"You act as though we do not want the same thing. I do not enjoy being hated any more than you do."

"That's fair," I think, staring down at the battered fabric of my shoes, stained by rain and ocean and dirt. "I'm sorry, I just... I thought there would be more I could do."

The nekomata looks down at its diamond-sharp claws, bright as stars against the dirty pavement. Everything about the nekomata is sharper than its surroundings; the flowers have faded to watercolour tones, and even seem to waver. The entire scene is water and ash, except the nekomata, so black it seems to glow. My eyes are sandy, and when I rub them, the sky ruptures.

I'm waking up.

I snap my eyes shut, but the tear in the sky continues to expand, slowly unzipping the grey dome. The nekomata turns its back to me and begins to walk, claws clicking.

"Wait!" I call. Then in thought-talk, "Wait!"

The nekomata pauses.

I think as hard as I can, "I need to ask you something." I run to catch up. Chunks of sky tumble around me, dissolving to smoke before they hit the ground. "Did you know a man named Akifumi-san?" The smoke is so thick even the ink-black nekomata is obscured. But when he turns to look at me, his blank eyes puncture holes in the fog.

"Names mean nothing to me."

"Do you remember a man, a long time ago – when you first got put into a person, and he was that person's friend? He was kind to him?"

A long silence. Then, "I remember kindness. It is rare in your kind."

"What do you mean, 'my kind'?"

"Humans." Another pause. "I liked the kind man. When he left, he gave us his bones to remember."

I open my mouth, but before I can say or even think another thing, the air turns black with smoke, and I can see neither the nekomata nor myself. Then a blue-white light splits my vision, and I find myself staring at the morning ceiling.

-/-/-

"You were right about Akifumi-san."

"Sorry?"

"I talked to the nekomata last night."

Yuki looks up at me from across his bowl of instant noodles.

My spoon clatters as I put it down in my cereal bowl. "I mean, I had a dream about him. He said Akifumi-san was a friend - I know it was just a dream, but I think it's true."

"Sounds like an interesting dream."

I study his face, try to figure out if he's patronizing me. But he says, "What else happened in it?"

"He said he was sick of being hated – the nekomata did, I mean. And he seemed... tired."

"He has been around a long time."

"Yeah, exactly. I never thought about it, but it makes sense – for him to be just as tired of this curse thing as the rest of us."

Yuki nods. "It would be a lot to bear. To exist for countless lives, but never live completely."

"Yeah," I say. I take another bite of cereal, roll the fruit loops over my tongue. Swallow. "He said something about how myths go where they're believed in. I think maybe that's true."

"And you suggest we break the curse by not believing in it?"

"No, that's… it's too simple. And too hard. But if we could find a way to control how we believe in it, maybe we could get some control over whatever's going on with the curse now."

Yuki looks at me a long time before answering. "It would make sense if the zodiac spirits were growing impatient."

"Yeah," I say. "Like you said, an incomplete life… no one wants that."


	33. The Truth

My Fault  
Chapter Thirty-Three  
The Truth

**author's note: **Thank you so much to **Anonymous Human** for the informative and encouraging messages. This is a bit of an early update, as I had a slow day at work and had a lot of time to write. I will be in Japan from May 31st to June 16, so I am unlikely to update during that time. However, I will do my best to have one more update before I leave.

**Kyo**

I take the envelope from the suitcase Yuki and I bought, where it's tucked under the small pile of my clothes. Hidden away in case of theft, as though it would mean as much to anyone else as it does to me.

I smooth out the paper and take out the letter enclosed within, read it once more. Smile at the twists and slashes of the letters, uniquely hers. Then I turn the envelope over. Fighting to keep my hand steady, I punch the number Yuki's copied down into the hotel phone.

The third ring is cut off by a "Hello?" A man's voice. Young. "Hello?"

"Hey, um, is Arisa-san there?"

"Just a moment."

The crackle of static as the phone moves around. Shadows of words I can't make out.

"Hello?"

My heart jumps against my throat. "Hey, it's Kyo."

A long pause. Then, "Really?"

"Yeah. I… I missed you a ton."

"You too." In the silence, my breathing feels too loud. "You never called me back. Or answered my letters."

"I know. I'm sorry. And I know that saying I'm sorry doesn't cut it, but… I am."

"Okay." Her voice is toneless, acknowledging rather than accepting my apology. "What happened?"

"A lot. It's kind of hard to explain over the phone. Do you have time to meet up today?"

"You could come by the house if you want."

"Thanks. I'd like that."

She tells me the address and I thank her again.

"I'll see you soon," I say.

"Yeah. Kyo?"

"Yeah?"

"It will be good to see you again."

"You too," I say. "You have no idea how much I missed you."

"I think I do."

**Yuki**

I type out a reply to Tohru. Of course I'll meet her and Hanajima at the airport. I can show her around. Osaka is beautiful, has she seen Castle Park? I missed her very badly. It will be amazing to hear the sound of her voice and to see her smile again.

An hour later, Kyo comes back from jogging and finds me sitting in front of the computer. He loudly downs a glass of water and announces, "I phoned Arisa this morning, before you managed to zombie out of bed. I'm going to visit her today."

"That's great."

"Hey, what's wrong with you?"

"Look at this email."

He leans off my shoulder to see the screen. _"Change your email address. If I can get into it, so can Akito." _The sender is listed as my own email.

When he's done reading, Kyo says, "You should type a reply back."

"Saying?"

"Thanks for the tip, but we're done running from Akito."

"Kyo?"

"Yeah?"

"Why exactly have you decided this?"

Yesterday, he'd mentioned going home. I'd dismissed it as exhaustion - or okay, maybe I really did believe he had thought out some kind of plan. But after a long sleep, my critical thinking faculties are a bit more alert than after a day of arguing with a nekomata in a rainstorm.

Kyo says, "He doesn't have as much power as he wants us to think. This curse is killing him, and he needs a way out more than any of us."

"And you think you can help with this."

"I have information."

"This wouldn't be the information you got from google and a dream, would it?"

He doesn't answer.

I say, "Kyo, I know what you found out was helpful, but I can't help thinking it mainly applies to you."

He sits down on the bed, folds his legs as though he's going to meditate. "I know it's a gamble," he says slowly. "But for Akito this is life or death. He's going to take any chance he gets."

"And if it doesn't work?"

"We're screwed. But it's worked so far."

Somehow I'm less than reassured.

**Kyo**

Amazingly, Yuki doesn't shut down my plan entirely. "Let's wait a day before we reply," he says. And that's all.

I wait for him to argue, to come up with some rational point I'll feel like an idiot for overlooking. Maybe on some level I actually want him to convince me otherwise, give me an excuse to stay as far away from that silent black room as possible. But of course, the one time I want him to correct me, he doesn't.

We walk out of the hotel together, neither of us speaking. My conversation with Arisa floats around my head, fragmented sentences ping-ponging back and forth. It feels strange. Wrong. That you can spend so much time with someone, talk to them about things you never talked to anyone about - and a couple months later, their voice is like that of a relative of someone you're close to - the same octave and accent, but the undertones allude to stories you don't know. Stories you're not a part of.

-/-/-

The door creaks open and Arisa stands in front of me. For a moment my mouth doesn't work. Her eyes are bright as they scan my face, and her hair is gold in the sun. I know it would be smooth if I touched it, and I know if I put my arms around her and pulled her close, she'd smell like wildflowers. Some things don't change. Her body would be warm against mine. I might feel her heartbeat. I don't know how fast it would be. And I don't know if she would hug me back.

There are faint blue shadows under her eyes and I don't know where they came from.

I say, "I missed you so much" at the same time as she says "Come in." We both hesitate, then laugh awkwardly.

The second I've closed the door, she's pulled me into an embrace so forceful you'd think she took lessons from Kagura. The wildflower scent surrounds me, and once I've managed to unpin my arms from my sides, I hug her back, hold her as close as I can before the inevitable transformation.

"I can't believe you," she says. Her voice shakes. There's a light _poof _and a tingling sensation as my body contracts into that of a cat. She continues to hold tight onto me and the bundle of clothes now in her arms. "You were in a cage and you didn't even tell me? I - I would have broken you out!"

"I know," I say. "It was stupid of me."

"Damn right it was!" She chokes back a sob, quickly covers it with a cough. Then, voice steady, she says, "I know you thought you were protecting me or whatever, but I'm not that fragile. And you're not invincible, either."

"I know," I say. And I can't stop a cat-smile from crossing my lips. I even missed arguing with her. "I never thought you were naive. I know it was a dumb idea, but I wanted to keep you from having to deal with any more unfairness."

I look up at her and her face softens, as does her grip - slightly. I put my head on her shoulder and lean against her cheek. Her smile tickles against my fur. "That's sweet," she says. "But I'm still mad at you. Just, give me the truth from now on, okay?"

"I promise," I say. "I have a lot to tell you."

"We have all the time in the world."

"I love you."

"I love you too. Even with your terrible ideas."

-/-/-

Once I've changed back and reclothed, she invites me into the kitchen for tea. I'm too stuck in emotional-overload to try to drink any, but it feels good to hold the warm cup in my hands, and the jasmine scent is calming; though unnecessary adrenaline continues to pulse through my limbs, left over from the wait outside her door. My body not realizing I didn't need to fight or flight, but to stay.

I say, "So how did you find out about the cage?"

"Someone sent me an email." She pauses. "I'm not sure who. They didn't say, except that they were a Sohma."

"I think Yuki got a message from the same person. Did they say why I had to go in the cage?"

"Just that it was a tradition."

"Yeah, it - it is. But there's more to it." My mouth is dry. The words get stuck on their way out. I take a sip of tea, find it difficult to swallow.

She slides her hand across the table, laces her fingers through mine.

"You can tell me. It won't change anything."

I don't believe her, but I force myself to speak. "I have another form."

"Like the cat?"

"No, not exactly. I'm the only person in the family who has a form like this - the person who is the cat always does. This form, it's disgusting, and dangerous, and - or at least, that's what I've always been told. My whole life I've always been told that."

"That sounds terrible," she says.

"Yeah, it's not something you want to run into in a dark alley."

"Not the form, I mean being told those things. No one deserves that."

"Thanks," I say. "I think… maybe the nekomata is more exhausted than anything. I don't think it's evil, at least."

"Nekomata, is that the other form?"

I nod.

She says, "I don't think any part of you could ever be evil."

"You haven't seen this."

"But I know _you. _And you're a good person."

**Arisa**

Suddenly, I'm holding a cat again. "Thank you," he says. His heartbeat flutters against me. I wonder if he knows how fragile he is.

"It's okay. I just wish you'd told me sooner. It hurt, being away from you. It really, really hurt."

"You're too kind to me."

"No, you're too harsh on yourself. I care about you, okay? No matter what, I want you in my life."

"Are you sure?"

"I've never really been an indecisive person."

He laughs. "True."

"I missed you too, you know. I felt like I'd spend my whole life waiting for you to phone me back."

"I'm sorry."

"You should be. I get that there are things you can't control, but if we're going to be together, I want to be a part of your life. I want to help you through the bad stuff the way you helped me." The words come out in a rush. There's so much I've wanted to say to him for so long, that now I can't stop. "I know I'm not always the most helpful person, but I want to try, at least."

"Don't be silly," he says. "Of course you're helpful." After a pause, he adds. "I never doubted that. It's why I was so worried about you getting hurt."

"Of course I'll get hurt. That's part of being in love. But when someone makes you happy, the painful moments are kind of worth it."

"I make you happy?"

"As much as you make me infuriated. Meaning, more than anyone else I've ever met."

He laughs again, then goes quiet. I hold him up, look into his fiery eyes, the deep black of his pupils. Neither of us say anything. There are things that don't fit into words.

I want to ask him more. He's told me so much so quickly, and for each answer I'm left with ten questions. I need to know about his other form, about his family and his curse. About how he escaped from the cage and what happens now. And I want to tell him about what happened here. About school and my mom and Tsukasa. About how I feel so much older than I did the last time I saw him, and how I want to go back home but I'm not sure if home will be the same as when I left, because I'm not the same now as when I left.

And I want to tell him that as I hold him, I feel a familiar calm despite myself. He smells like mint and wind, and whether cat or human, holding on to him just feels right. That for a long time, I haven't known whether I was doing the right thing, but now he's back and this feels so perfect even though everything's been going wrong, and I still don't know what to do but when he's here, I'm not so worried.

I'm made up of ideas the wrong size for words and words the wrong size for conversation. But as we hold on to each other, I'm happy, really happy, for the first time in months.


	34. Spring

My Fault  
Chapter Thirty-Four  
Spring

**a note from the author: **Hello, thank you so much for reading my story. I would like to thank **Anonymous Human** for the helpful messages. This will be my last update until I am back from Japan, so I apologize in advance for the wait. Positive feedback and/or constructive criticism are highly appreciated.

**Arisa**

Before Kyo leaves, I kiss him, hard. He kisses me back. "I still can't believe you're here," I say as we break away. "Promise you won't disappear again?"

"I promise. Do you really forgive me?"

"I don't know," I say. "I think I do, but… it's gonna take time to make things the way they were before. I want to, though."

"Me too," he says quietly.

"I'm glad you told me. And I'm glad you're here."

"So am I. You know… I've never told anyone about that before. Not without Shishou making me."

"I guess it doesn't really come up in conversation."

"Yeah. It's weird, being able to say these things. It's like, I was so afraid of how you'd react - how anyone would react to hearing that. But now it's over, and I don't know what to be afraid of anymore."

"It's okay not to be afraid."

"I know." He laughs. "It's the kind of problem that really doesn't make any sense."

"No, I get what you mean. But it really is okay, just to be happy."

"Thanks." He pauses. "I want to go back to talk to Akito."

"What? Why?"

"I have some ideas about how to break the curse, or to change it at least."

"And they'll work?"

"I don't know."

I look at his orange eyes for a long time. "You really have to do this, don't you?"

"I think so."

"If he does anything to you, I swear I'll beat him up."

"I love you."

"I love you too." We kiss again, more gently. I'm not sure who initiates it - we seem to lean in in unison. Since I can't hug him, I settle for holding both his hands in mine. "You really promise you won't get locked up again?"

"I promise I'll get out again if I do. I have you on my side, and Yuki, and Tohru and Hanajima… We're a good team."

"Akito doesn't stand a chance."

"Exactly."

I know the conversation isn't over, but we've both run out of words. I glance at the clock, am startled to see what time it is. "I should go meet my mom and Tsukasa. She gets out of the hospital today."

"Is she better now?"

"For the time. It's not really the kind of thing you get better from."

He nods. "I'm sorry."

"Thanks. I'd bring you with me, but all of this is pretty overwhelming as it is."

"That's fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

"You too. Be careful, okay?"

"With what?"

"Just in general."

He runs his thumb along the back of my hand and kisses me goodbye. "Thank you. I'll come see you in the morning."

"I'd like that." I watch through the window as he walks away, his hair like fire against the greyish streets.

**Yuki**

"I thought you'd be longer," I say as Kyo steps through the door. "How did it go?"

"Good," he says.

"You sound surprised."

"It's a lot to tell someone."

"But you're good at talking to people. And she loves you."

"Thanks," he says.

"So what did you tell her?"

"Everything." He pauses. "Or I guess, as much as I could. It's not really a one-conversation deal. But… we're good."

"I'm glad to hear. You two are good for each other."

"Thanks. It's the same with you and Tohru, you know. She makes you… less annoying."

"Thank you so much."

"I'm kidding. Sort of. But since you met her, it's like you seem more awake. Like you're seeing what's around you, instead of just your thoughts."

I consider whether I should be offended, but decide against it. "I think that's true."

He says, "I was thinking, when I go back… it doesn't have to be both of us. I know it was pretty bad for you too back there, and it's not my right to make you go back to that."

"It's okay," I say. "I've been thinking too, and this trip… it's the best thing I've ever done. I've always known about what Akito does to people, what he did to me… but this is the first time I've stood up to him. If you go back, I want to go to."

Kyo says, "Just… think about it a bit before you write back, okay?"

"Okay," I say. But I already know what I will choose. I think I've known it for a long time, as much as the idea scares me. The same way that helping Kyo escape scared me.

"Yuki?"

"Yeah?"

"I never thought I'd say this, but you're a good guy."

"You too," I say. "So why _are _you back so soon?"

"She had to go with her stepdad, to get her mom from the hospital."

"Hospital? Is she okay?"

"She's sick."

I stop myself from blurting out "Well, obviously," and instead say, "What kind of sickness?"

"Something fairly serious, but it sounded like she would be okay for a while."

"That's reassuring. The last part of that sentence, that is."

"Yeah." He runs a hand through his hair. "I wanted to ask more, but I didn't want to make her answer that, you know?"

"It's understandable."

"So much has happened in her life that I wasn't there to help her with."

"Uotani-san is a strong person."

"I know. But I still wish I was there for her." He pauses. "And now Tohru and Hanajima-san are gonna be here too… the whole group, huh."

"Do you think you would go back to the way things were, if you could?"

"I don't know. We can't do that, so it seems kind of pointless to think about… I used to think about things like that all the time, and it never helped with anything."

"I suppose that's true."

"Would you?"

I think for a moment. "I don't think so. I think things are better now, or at least, they will be."

"Yeah. Maybe that's true."

In the end, I type out a reply not because I want to, but because going back seems inevitable. Because even though my skin goes cold and my hands shake whenever that black room comes into my thoughts, part of me feels like I never really left. All my life, Akito told me I was his. And now, even if I'm far from him, living in exile is not the same as freedom.

I didn't know how badly I needed things to change. And now that I know, I can't go back to accepting things the way they are.

If I want to be with Tohru, I'm not going to make her run like this.

Tohru:

Cars inch across the thin grey streets before disappearing behind a veil of cloud.

"You're not scared," says Hana, in the seat beside me.

"No," I say. "I thought I would be, but it's kind of... nice."

"Everyone's small," says Megumi.

"I don't like it." Airi sticks her head between the seats, appearing between Hana and my shoulder. "It makes me dizzy."

"The ocean is waving at us," says Megumi.

"And I don't get why you had to bring your brother along," Airi adds.

"We work well as a team" says Hana.

Megum draws pictures of black flowers in a small notebook propped on his lap, while Hana knits a scarf, needles clicking as they pull through wool. The scarf is currently long enough to stretch from one end of the aisle to the other.

"And we need an extra for the movie, Airi-san," I say.

"We don't even have a script yet," says Airi.

"We'll have one soon," says Hana.

"Alright. Just as long as we don't do the murder mystery idea. I mean, it's not even a mystery – you never said who killed them."

"Doesn't that make it more mysterious?" says Hana.

"But it misses the point."

"But the point is to be mysterious."

"Then you could just show them fifteen minutes of a black screen and call that our film."

"That is an excellent ide-"

"No."

Hana resumes her knitting and Airi sighs, sinks back into her chair and pages through a romance novel about pirates.

I watch the white ripples of the clouds under the plane. The sight is hypnotizing; it's odd to know the plane must look so small to anyone looking up, even as those people are so small a single cloud can cover up a city. And it's odd to know that all those people have their own lives, their own thoughts. And that down below, in one of those cities, two of those people are Yuki and Kyo.

"Your waves changed."

"Hm?" I look up, realize I've fallen into a trance. "Sorry. I was thinking about a lot of things."

"Are you worried?"

"I'm not sure. More overwhelmed, I think."

Hana puts down her knitting and places a hand on my shoulder.

"I'll be okay. I just can't believe we're really going to see them again. It... doesn't feel real."

"Are you always so cryptic?" says Airi. "Who are we seeing again?"

I hesitate, then remember the last email. They're coming home soon. I look at Hana, who nods, and then I say, "Yuki-san and Kyo-san."

Airi is quiet for a long time. I think she stops breathing. Then she says, "That's not funny."

"It's true, Airi-san."

"It can't be. If it were true, why would you be nervous?"

"You're always nervous around Yuki-san," Hana points out.

"True, but I'm not like Tohru-san. She has, like, a connection to him. Don't you?"

"I, um, I'm not sure."

"I mean, he cares about you as much as you care about him."

I think of us spending time in his garden. The care he took in picking the new strawberries, how he always let me try the first one of the spring. I think of us sitting on the roof, planning Kyo's escape under the stars and talking about travelling together after high school.

I smile. "Yes," I say, "I think that's right."

"So there's nothing to worry about. You're still you and he's still him, after all. I mean," she adds quickly, "if it really is him we're meeting. Which it probably isn't."

"Eh...?"I start. She smiles, and I laugh.

She looks out the window as the clouds fall away. "Just, make sure he's happy, okay?" Her voice is strained.

"I promise," I say.

In her eyes, the last few clouds slip into blue.

**Arisa**

"I should have written letters," she says. "Or phoned. Or something."

"It's over now," I say.

Tsukasa turns a key in the trunk of the car, takes out a tangle of metal and unfolds the shape into a wheelchair. Junko moves quickly, hoisting herself from the hospital's wheelchair to this one. Tsukasa rolls the first chair back into the building and I stand with my hands in my jeans until I notice the ramp in the trunk and try to set it up by the passenger seat.

"Thanks, Arisa-san," she says.

"It's okay."

"It, um, it goes to the backseat, though."

I fix it, fiddle for a long time until I find how the ramp hooks in. She rolls herself up, says again, "Thank you."

I get into the passenger seat. I roll the window down, and spring wind warms my face. The sun's come out. The grass is vivid from the rain. "You don't have to say san," I say. "I'm younger than you. It's too formal."

"Oh," she says. "I guess I forgot."

"So you grew up in America?"

"Yes," she says. Her voice rises with mild surprise.

"Tsukasa told me."

"Ah. Do you like to travel, Arisa?"

"I don't know. I've never really been anywhere." The trees around the parking lot shuffle their new-budded branches in the wind. "Except here, I mean. I think I'd like travelling."

"Yeah," she says. "I think you'd like it. It can be scary, but... you're brave."

"Thanks."

"I... I am sorry. I'm not asking you to forgive me, but I wanted you to know."

"Thanks," I say, again. "It's beautiful here. Thanks for letting me stay here."

"I'm glad something good came out of this, at least." She laughs, a short fragile burst. "You can visit anytime."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Past the windshield, white slips across blue, disconnecting and reforming in a process so slow you can barely see it. The highway whispers from far away, and past that, the first returning birds cry out to each other.

My mother says, "Would it be too late no, if I started? Writing letters, and... calling?"

I say, "No." I say, "I'd like that."

A smile lights up her face. "I would too.


	35. Leaves of Grass

Thank you so much to Anonymous Human for the helpful feedback. I would also like to recommend Anonymous Human's story _Greyscale _to anyone looking for a good fanfiction about Kyo's character.

This is the last chapter before the epilogue! :O

My Fault  
Chapter Thirty-Five  
Leaves of Grass

**Arisa**

I'm putting away dishes when Junko glides past me in the kitchen. "You don't have to do that," she says.

"I don't mind." She's wearing a jacket and a scarf the colour of a bluejay. "Where are you going?"

"Tsukasa is taking me to the park."

"Is this because my friends are coming over?"

She twists a lock of redblack hair around her index finger and stares at it.

"You don't have to go," I say. "It _is _your house."

She unwinds the hair, just as meticulously, then looks up at me. "Thank you. But I'd rather they not see me like this."

"It's not your fault you're sick."

"That's not what I meant." She fiddles with the grooves in her wheels. When I'd first met her, she'd seemed so together, but now she reminds me of a kid, unable to keep her hands still.

I was the same way, when I was young.

She says, "I'd love to meet your friends. But when that happens, I want to be a parent you can be proud of."

There's a lot I want to say, but I can't find words for any of it. "Have a good time the park. Tell Tsukasa I say hi."

"Thank you, and I will. Have fun with your friends."

"Thank you," I say.

**Tohru**

Uo-chan answers the door, and immediately pulls Hana-chan and I into a hug. "I missed you guys so much," she says.

I feel tears sting my eyes. "I missed you too," I say. I want to say more, but the happy tears choke my voice. So instead I smile, and hold on to both of them, feeling warm and safe.

When we finally seperate, Uo-chan gives Yuki a grin and a "Long time no see, Prince." He smiles and bows, thanks her for having us over. "No problem, come in!" Yuki smiles and takes my hand. Uo-chan grins at us and takes Kyo-kun's hand in her own. A vague feeling of worry passes over me like the shadow of a cloud, though I can't place it - "Your beads!"

Kyo-kun glances down at his wrist, then reaches around his neck and pulls a single bead on a string from under his shirt. "There was an accident on the boat. I managed to save this one."

"Are you... okay?"

"I think so," he says. He must see I'm worried, because he smiles that way he does when he's trying to calm me down. "Yeah, I'm fine."

And we all enter the house.

We all take a moment to marvel at the inside - eveything is clean, and big, and shiny, from the wood floors to the paintings of landscapes on the walls to the flowers on the table. "Tsukasa took that picture," says Uo-chan, pointing to a fuzzy green volcano in a frame. "And my Mom put the flowers on the table."

"It sounds like you get along with them very well," I say.

"I'm not sure, it's kind of complicated." She looks away for a moment, but then smiles again. "I'm glad I came, though. Except for the part where I feel like an asshat for ignoring everyone back home."

"It's okay," I say. "I mean, you have to do what makes you happy, and -" My vision gets cloudy again.

"Hey," she says. She touches my shoulders. "It's alright for you to be upset with me. I messed up."

"I'm not upset. I just missed you very badly."

"I missed you too." She hugs me again, and Hana, and then Megumi, who hugs her back despite remaining silent. "You guys are my family, my real family, and I need you in my life."

"We need you too," I say. I can't fight the tears anymore. I notice Uo-chan can't either, though she tries to wipe them away. My friend, the ex-gangster who cries easily.

"Hey Megumi-chan, I picked - I picked up that new Mogeta movie that Hana-chan said you wanted to see. Should we watch that?" She says.

"I would like that," says Megumi-chan. "Thank you, Uotani-san."

"No problem!" She grins again, and waves her arms. Kyo-kun, standing beside her, gets knocked by the gesture, stumbles against her and transforms. "Erm, sorry..." She says to the fluffy orange cat at her feet. But he looks up at her with a cat-smile and says, "Don't worry about it." And after a pause he laughs, and then we're all laughing.

He's transformed back by the time Airi-san arrives for what is supposedly a group meeting, although the film project is mentioned for less than a minute, when Yuki asks what it is about and none of us can answer. "I'm sure it will be amazing, whatever you decide," he says, and we resume talking about the last few weeks. There is a lot to talk about.

Airi, Yuki and I sit on one of the couches, while Kyo, Uo-chan and Hana-chan sit on the other, Mogeta-chan cross-legged on the floor and the only one watching the movie playing on the tv.

Airi is asking Yuki questions, and he doesn't seem to mind answering. "Yuki-san, why did you come all the way to Osaka?"

"Because a friend was having a hard time, and it seemed like the right thing to do."

"Do you still think that?"

"Yes. More than ever."

"But you're coming home."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"There are things I need to finish there."

"Do you know where you're going to go to college, Yuki-san?"

"I'm not sure. Hopefully somewhere new. I'd like to travel."

"That's cool. I wish I was brave enough to do that."

"I'm pretty scared, to be honest. But that makes me think I need to do it even more."

"Will Tohru-kun travel with you?"

Yuki says, "That's up to her."

I smile at him, and say, "I think I'd like that."

Tohru

For the rest of the day, we are explorers. We continue to talk on the train about the time we've spent apart, so many words it seems we will never run out. I'd forgotten how easy it is to talk to Kyo-kun and Uo-chan and Yuki, how much they can make me smile.

Uo-chan tells us about her friends Mi-san and Gin-san, how Mi-san is studying to be a physicist and can put the right coordinates into a calculator so that the graphs draw starbursts and swirls, how Gin-san and Uo-chan watch skateboard shows together for hours, because even though Uo-chan doesn't know very much about skateboarding, Gin-san can make any topic interesting.

Kyo-kun tells us about how he and Yuki traveled to here by taking on jobs as sailors. "It really wasn't that bad," he says. "Well, except for the falling overboard part."

"You fell over?" I exclaim.

"Yeah. Yuki pulled me out – I would have got back on my own, obviously, but it was pretty decent of the rat."

"You rescued him?"

"Well, um, I helped a bit, like Kyo said." Yuki adjusts the sleeves of his jacket.

"I'm glad you're both okay," I say.

Yuki smiles. "Me too."

At the aquarium, we film the sea lions sleeping and the otters washing their faces. I take a close-up of the penguins diving, streams of airbubbles pouring off their bodies. Yuki and I watch a deep-blue crab crawl across a floor of pebbles, and Airi-san films the jelleyfish glowing in their tanks.

Kyo-kun shouts that the tiny otter that swims directly in front of him every time he puts away the camera, then hides when he's got it out, is totally doing that deliberately. The animal looks at him through the glass with black-opal eyes, fascinated by his anger. The two stand for several seconds, staring at each other. His fingers twitch towards the camera again, and the otter darts.

"Dammit! Stupid otter!"

Uo-chan laughs, and when Kyo-kun looks up at her, he does too.

Outside, we buy takoyaki from a cart and film each other eating. Uo-chan and Kyo-kun decide to go for a walk, and the rest of us ride on a ferris wheel and watch the sunset burst over the harbor. Boats float between buildings as the waves dance in blue-pink light. As the colours in the sky deepen, windows switch on panes of fiery light, and their reflections burn on the waves.

"What's wrong?" says Yuki.

I say, "The camera. The colours aren't showing up clear enough, and it doesn't get the size, how the river goes on and on and on like that."

Gently, he says, "Maybe it's not the kind of thing you can film. Maybe it's the kind of moment you can only see once."

The air around us smells like clean water. We have almost reached the top of the wheel, and the people below are tiny dots. The beams of the wheel intersect like a puzzle or an intricate drawing. On the path below, strings of coloured bulbs fill the walkway with blue and white stars, while above, the real ones begin to poke through, pearls in a dark sea.

I click off the camera.

"That's probably true," I say. He touches my arm and I lean into the warmth of him. I fill all the space in my mind with this moment.

**Kyo**

"Can I see your other form?"

An icy jolt runs through me and my throat closes up. I concentrate on drawing the spring air in and out of my lungs as we sit on the hill, looking out over fields of rice.

Arisa says, "You said I couldn't understand without seeing. So I'd like to see." She touches my arm.

"It's not the sort of thing anyone likes to see."

"Okay," she says. "But... I think I need to see."

"What if I shows you another day?"

"I know you well enough to know you'd obsess over it until you did it."

I flick a pebble with my finger, watch the stone land with a splash in the shiny field. "That's probably true."

"I promise I'll be okay with it."

She sees my expression before I have to say anything.

"Okay, maybe not. Maybe I will be scared. But it won't change anything, because I'll know it's still you in there... and even if I'm scared, I trust you."

"Why?"

"Because you'd never hurt anyone."

It's strange how being trusted is so much more painful than being hated. When you fight for someone, there's a lot more at stake than when you fight against them.

She entwines her fingers in mine on the soft grass. "You don't have to if you're not ready. But if you weren't ready, would you have brought it up?"

"No," I say. I exhale, "Okay."

I slip off my shoes and socks, pull my shirt over my head. I place the small pile of clothes further away than necessary, not sure if I'm procrastinating or just paranoid about breaking things. Then I breathe in, reach for the bead, and the movement inside me, like a small motor, speeds up until the velocity causes my center of gravity to shift.

I feel like I'm spinning, spinning until I faint. The colours and shapes around me blur into a greyish soup, then float to the surface with edges too sharp and colours too bright.

Transforming isn't physically painful, but I almost wish it were. Pain is a lot more straightforward than the disorientation you're left with when your arms and legs aren't the ones you've known all your life, but they're still _yours, _ancient and alive and familiar, like a song you've forgotten you know. My insides feel too big for my outsides, like my skin is stretched so tight it has no choice but to change shape. I shrink down to my hands and knees, and the world around me grows taller, but spindly and fragile.

My thoughts are still mine – in a way, they're even more so. Faster. The words and pictures in my heads spin and swoop and dash around until I can't see straight.

I see Tohru's shoulder and neck, bleeding.

My claws like heavy hands tear gashes in the soft earth.

My mother waves goodbye.

And even as I'm huge and sharp-edged, made of teeth and leathery skin, I'm a child, reaching a braceleted arm after her because I don't want her to go. Because her eyes are sadder than usual, shining in their blue-moon caves of not sleeping. Because she's wearing perfume, and she hasn't done that in years, she only does that when something big is going to happen, and today is only a tuesday like any other except it isn't, it isn't, she smells like lavender and something else, like rubbing alcohol or sweat. Faint, not unpleasant, but _wrong. _

She's wearing the outfit she bought a long time ago, when she took me to a department store, way back when I was still allowed to go out and she still wanted to go out. A dress she bought for a special occasion that never came up. She's tried to brush her hair, for the first time in what must be weeks, and she hasn't done a perfect job – tangles poke through from beneath the smooth layer on the top.

_Goodbye Kyo. I love you. _

No _See you tonight._

The door closes.

Arisa touches my shoulder. "It's okay," she says. She's pulled the collar of her shirt over her mouth and nose, but I can still hear her coughing. Her knees and shoulders shake. "Thank you for showing me."

"Are you going to leave?" I realize I'm shaking too.

"No," she says. Her eyes water. I wonder if it's the smell, or if she's crying.

I see that day, in the empty classroom. When I held on to her even though I knew I shouldn't, knew I wasn't brave enough to reveal myself that way, but I cared about her more than I did myself and she made me want to be brave enough, because she was hurting so badly and I needed to do _something. _

_Do you hate me? _I asked.

_I could never hate you. _

And she'd held me back.

She moves her hand on my shoulder, as though I'm still a person and she still wants to be close to me.

I say, "You're coughing."

"It's okay."

"If you want to go, it's okay. I won't be offended."

"I know. But I want to stay with you."

"Really?"

"Really."

She sits down beside me, leans back with her hands on the ground. Though she does this casually, her movements are disjointed enough that I suspect she needs to sit before she passes out.

I say, "You're a pretty unique person."

"So are you."

I laugh. I brush my claw against the bud of a wild strawberry, am surprised when the plant doesn't break. "You're really not freaked out by... this?"

"I've never really been the freaking out type."

"And you're not worried about Akito?"

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, but... I trust you."

"Why?"

"Because you came back."

She puts her hand on top of my –

hand.

Funny how you can be so entranced by someone that you don't even notice the colours in your vision have changed.

I put my arms around her, and she hugs me back. I know I'm going to transform, but I don't care. I'm so close to her I can feel her heartbeat, and as we sit by the rice fields with the air smelling of spring, I promise myself I will never forget this feeling.

-/-/-

No one comes to meet us at the airport.

With our bags slung over our shoulders, the group of us return to the city where we've spent most of our lives. It feels like this should mean something, that we're back in a place that has meant, at different times, exile, danger, isolation, and home. But as I cross the airport floor, there's neither relief nor terror. I knew this would happen. There was no other choice.

Hanajima's family drive Airi home, and in the taxi, Arisa, Tohru, and Yuki look to me. I give directions to the Sohma family grounds, and no one stops me. We drive past houses and fields in silence.

The car pulls up to the gates and I walk towards the family cemetary. Arisa gives my hand a squeeze and I kiss her. "I'll be back soon," I say, and she nods. The cemetary smells like flowers and smells like quiet wind and quiet birds.

I haven't been here in years, but my legs know the way to her grave. They will always know.

Her stone is smaller than most. No quote, just a name and date. I put my fingers inside the indents and feel the cold letters of her name.

"I'm sorry," I say. I sit down in the small shadow. "For whatever I did, or didn't do, I'm sorry."

I touch the grass. "I miss you." The grass has seeds. They feel like a paintbrush against my hands. "Whatever part of you is left, I hope you're happy now." I press my ear to the ground. There's no sound, save for the echoes of my own circulation. Of course there isn't. But the leaves of grass are soft.

I think, _Goodbye, _and I walk back towards the living.


	36. Epilogue: Dreams

My Fault  
Epilogue  
Dreams

**1**

**Kyo **

My back strains as I pick up the pieces of the sky, lift them above my head, and put them into place. They're lighter than they look, but still bigger than me. The jagged edges shine with iridescence.

Clouds flow inside each blue fragment. I pick up some smaller pieces, the size of my hands, turn them over to see how they fit together. When the fragments connect, the cracks blur together, but the iridescence doesnít disappear - it seems to dissolve, somehow, overshadowed by the blue, but still there.

The ground around me is dark. Amidst the rubble, I can barely make out the dusty dusky outlines of houses. There is no sign of the throne. I don't notice the black shape behind me until I feel a shadow brush across my back.

_(- shadow? but there's no sun -)_

"Where's the girl?" I ask.

The nekomata climbs out from the mound of sky behind me. "She has gone to sleep."

Both of us are using our real voices this time, not thoughts. Or at least, I think we are. I feel somehow like a radio wave, fading in and out as I pass through a world much more solid than I am.

"Will she be okay?"

"For the very tired, sleep is best."

"Oh." I hoist another piece of rubble over my head, slide it into place.

"Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering."

The nekomata grabs a slab in its claws, rises up on its hind legs to place it above my head.

"You are anxious for the day to change," it says. I wonder if it's the deepness of its voice that causes it to resonate inside my chest, or something else.

I say, "Yeah."

"Tomorrow things will change."

"I know."

"Why do you want this? For yourself?"

"No," I say. I know this is true, but I stop before I say more, unsure whether I can find words for my thoughts. But when I do say them, they feel true.

"I wouldn't be able to do this for myself. That's what was so scary about the room... not the dark, or Akito, or even the loneliness - it was the way I could stop caring. It was easy, to let the days slip by without me being connected to them. It felt terrible, but... it was easy."

I push another piece of sky into place while I gather my thoughts. As the sky grows higher, light streams out, illuminating the fractures in the concrete where plants have begun to grow.

The nekomata says, "Then why?"

"This curse has hurt too many people. I won't be able to live with myself unless I try to stop that."

I fit in the last block that I can reach. The emptiness still looms above me, not black or white, but a colour my mind can't hold. Every time I try to look, I'm forced to turn away. The lack of colour hurts.

I stand back and let the light from the sky fall all over me. The nekomata steps back too. When I look at the creature, I notice its fur isn't black, exactly - or it is, but the kind of black that holds every colour inside, like a raven's feather or an oil slick.

I say, "That girl. You said she was a spirit. But last time you said she was part of my thoughts."

"Of course. How else could spirits remain here?"

I take a step towards the nekomata, and the light grows brighter. The white spaces of its eyes widen, and inside them, two orange marbles expand. This time I'm not surprised when the embers become my eyes. I look into them, become dizzy as I reflect myself on to infinity.

The nekomata takes a step towards me. We reach for each other, hand and claw. When we touch, we melt together like paint.

The sun rises.

**2 **

**Tohru **

Hana-chan, Airi-kun, and I stand before the film club students and bow.

"This is our presentation," I say. "W-we decided to do a documentary form." Hana-chan nods at me, and I smile, straighten my skirt. "We chose the topic of family. We hope you will like our movie."

Airi-kun adjusts the knobs on the projector until the square of light focuses on the sheet at the front of the room. She flashes a thumbs up, and Hana-chan hits the play button on the remote.

A blue square glows on the sheet. Tanaka-sensei flips the lights, and the square shines brighter. White letters fade in on the center of the blue.

"Family"

The letters fade out. Misty clouds swirl up the screen as the camera lowers.

Hana-chan and Megumi-chan sit at a picnic table, playing chess. Hana-chan smiles calmly, and Megumi-chan eyes the board. The park is huge and green. In the background, joggers in bright colours pass by, and teenagers laugh as they play tennis. A group of seniors practice tai-chi by the lake. You can hear birds.

"Family means a lot of things," my voice says. "The literal meaning is shared biology, but to most people, it's a lot more complicated."

The camera focuses on the board. Both sets of pieces are black. Hana-chan has tied bows on her pieces to distinguish them.

"For most people, the strongest bonds they experience aren't because of biology, but because of a shared history."

The camera zooms out. Megumi-chan moves his knight. He looks at Hana-chan, and his mouth forms the faintest of smiles.

The scene shifts to Uo-chan, Kyo-kun, Yuki, Hana-chan and I playing volleyball at the game center. You can see that we're laughing, but you can't hear what we're saying because a piano song starts playing. It was Airi's idea, since it was easier than putting beeps in Kyo-kun's dialogue. The song is happy, but also sad. Or maybe the type of happiness that makes you feel like you could cry easily, because you feel so opened up. It is happy, though.

"Becoming close to someone is a process, and sometimes you don't even realize it's happening. You can look back, and realize there are people who you never thought you would be close to, but now, you can't imagine your life without them."

The scene fade into another. In the rush of luggage and harried travelers at an airport, the crowd parts to allow Uo-chan and a woman in a wheelchair to embrace.

"Sometimes when you get to know people better, you realize they're not who you expected. But that doesn't mean it's bad. That's what makes the world such an interesting place - everyone is always surprising each other."

(I will never forget that moment. We were in line at security and a voice behind us said, "Wait!" We turned around. The other people in line turned around. No one knew what they were looking at.

And then a woman's voice said, "Arisa-san. I don't feel right not saying goodbye."

A woman in a wheelchair pushed herself forward. The other people in line moved away for her. Uo-chan said, "Mom."

The woman's hair was falling out of its ponytail, and her face was slightly red. But she was grinning. "I'll miss you," she said. "Thank you so much for coming. Thank you so much."

"Thank you, too," says Uo-chan.

The woman - Uo-chan's mom - shook her head. "I didn't do anything for you to thank me for. But... I hope your flight is safe. And I promise I'll write." Her eyes looked wet, but she was still smiling.

Uo-chan hugged her. It was quick, and Uo-chan had to bend over, but there was more discomfort to it than that. There was wetness in their eyes, but they weren't sad, exactly, completely. There was a whole story there that I didn't know, but I could tell it was complicated.

Their arms intertwined, then disconnected.

They waved goodbye.)

Airi and her friends sign yearbooks in the school hallway.

"People change. We have to go different ways. But when you really care about someone, you reach a point where even if they're not there physically, they're a part of your life. Because if you hadn't known them, you wouldnít be who you are."

The camera follows my back as I walk into Shigure-san's house. No one is home. The song has finished, and there are only my footsteps as I walk up the stairs.

I drop my backpack on the bed, and bow to the photograph of my mother. The camera passes over my shoulder and focuses on her. She is giving a peace sign, and she is smiling.

Fade to black.

**3**

** Kyo**

"You idiot!" A blast of dark hair and a small form barrels into me, slamming me into a wall of the family head's house and knocking the air from my lungs. "I was so worried!"

"H-hi Kagura," I gasp out, forcing air back into my lungs. She looks at me with tears hanging from her eyelashes.

"I can't believe you did it. You brilliant, brilliant idiot."

"Thanks, I think. Hey, hey - it's alright."

Her body has started to shake with silent crying. "I thought I'd never see you again. I don't even care that you have a girlfriend, I just wanted to see you."

"It's alright, I'm back, it's - wait. You knew?"

"Of course I knew! Did you think I of all people was going to miss this news in your life?"

"No. No, I guess not." And then I laugh. It bursts out of me, catching me by surprise, and then I can't stop. Kagura rolls her eyes, and then it catches hold of her too. We laugh and hold onto each other and when we stop, our eyes are wet and we look at each other, amazed.

Sometimes you forget how much you missed someone until you see them again.

I say, "We have to get the group together and see the new Mogeta movie."

"Good plan. I have to meet this Arisa-chan."

"You've already met."

"But not in the context of your girlfriend! I have to approve."

"Fair enough." I nod. "You'll like her. She used to threaten people with a lead pipe."

"Good, good. She'll keep you in line." She lets go of me, and her eyes travel up and down. "You look different."

"I got older."

"You're stronger."

"Hopefully. You, uh, got a haircut. It looks nice."

"Thank you!" She smiles, widely but quickly fading. "Kyo?"

"Yeah?"

"Why _are_ you here?"

"There's something I have to talk to Akito about."

"Are you, um, sure that's safe?"

"No. But I still have to."

"I'll go with you. If he tries anything I can -"

"No. Really, Kagura, it's all right. And... It's kind of something I think might go better if it's just me."

"Okay." She hugs me again, with enough force to strain my ribs. "Be careful."

"I will be."

"No, you won't." She lets go, looks at me with dark brown eyes. "But I trust you."

**4**

**Kyo**

Kureno approaches me outside Akito's door. "Are you going to help him?" he says.

"I'm gonna try."

His eyes are tired, glowing in faint blue shadows. I wonder if he's been crying, then dismiss the idea. That's not something Kureno would do. But maybe things are worse than I thought.

"Okay," says Kureno. "Best of luck."

"Thanks." I enter Akito's room and shut the door behind me.

Darkness paints the room from wall to wall, worse than the prison I'd been kept in. The smell is strange - rotten food, old sweat.

"You came back." His voice is cracking branches. His breathing sounds like it hurts. "I knew you would."

I walk towards the sound of him. "Me too."

"You turned yourself in."

"No." I sit down on the floor beside him. "I came to talk to you."

"I think you're confused." He touches my face, and I fight back every instinct to shudder. His fingers are as cold and sharp-tipped as icicles. "You're the cat. We don't _talk._"

"My name is Kyo, not The Cat. And you're not god anymore."

His hand draws back as if to slap me, but it never comes. "Explain."

""The curse is wearing off. The only thing keeping it in place is that we keep holding on to it, enforcing it with the way we live." I draw back my sleeve. "Look."

As my eyes adjust to the dark, his face appears before me, grey and framed in wild hair. He's thinner, making his eyes stick out, huge and dark. His gaze travels to my wrist and its lack of bracelet, then back to me. "What did you do?" His voice is soft."

"I stopped believing. That I was worthless, and cursed, and... it stopped. The spirit is still there, but... it doesn't take me over the same way."

"You're lying. It can't be that simple."

"It's not. Every day, sometimes every minute, I have to correct the direction of my thoughts, and I still feel the spirit humming inside me, pushing at the surface of my skin. But... something's different. Kureno's free too, has been for a long time. The curse is fading.

"I read the family histories, you know. I wasn't stupid, as a kid, and since none of you Sohmas wanted to interact with me I needed something to do. The lives of the gods have been getting shorter and shorter. Maybe no one on earth is supposed to have that power anymore."

"That's blasphemy," he says. But his voice isn't angry.

"It will save your life. If you let go."

"Do you promise that?"

"Yeah. I promise."

He moves. His clothes shuffle loudly as he slides towards me. But rather than strike, he falls into me, arms around me. I stay still, not even breathing, as the head of the family holds on to me. A few tears fall to my neck. "How will I live?" His voice is less than a whisper.I let myself breathe again, and put my arms around him too. His spine pokes against my hand through his robes. It feels ancient and frail.

"You'll be free," I say.

**5**

**Kyo**

"How did the talk go?" Arisa asks in the woods outside the house. I take her hand as we begin the walk home

"Good," I say. "Things are... they're going to change."

"I still can't believe it," she says, shaking her head. "Gods and curses. It's so... surreal, to think that exists. That we're part of it."

"I think it's surreal to be part of something other than that," I say. Then I say, "I love you." I mean it. A year ago, I didn't know I could mean anything as much as I mean that.

She leans in to kiss me, arms at her side, the way we're used to. But I guide her arms until they're around me, and mine around her. Our hearts try to match each other's beats. The two of us remain for many minutes, listening to the wind in the trees. Everything smells like spring.

"You're not going to transform?" she asks.

"I will eventually. I'm not totally free yet. But we have now."

She says, "I'm glad. I love you too, you know."

I say, "I know."

**6**

"I can't believe it." Hatori shakes his head. "I've never seen such a recovery."

"I never doubted her," says Shigure. "Our Akito has never been predictable."

"It's still a miracle. And the least you can do is look up from that computer."

Shigure's hands continue to clack against the keyboard. "You know, I had a suspicion that kind of thing would work. Kyo's plan."

"Then why didn't you tell it to her?"

"Do you think she would have believed me?"

"No. I suppose you don't exactly have the best track record." He tries to look at the other man's screen, but Shigure tilts the laptop away, wagging a disapproving finger. "You know, I wonder what things would be like if you used your insights into human nature for good rather than evil."

"Now Ha-san, would you really go so far as to call my novels evil? I thought artistically dubious was direct enough."

"You know what I meant."

"Yes, yes," Shigure sighs. He closes the laptop and plugs it into a cord from the wall, picks up his coat from the chair and slips his arms through the sleeves. "Maybe one day I'll change my ways. You never know."

"I hope so. Try not to upset her this visit."

"Oh, I have no doubt I will."

"What does that mean?"

"It means two people who have lived their whole lives adapted to the ways of the Sohma family are going to have a hard time moving on. But sometimes a jarring change is what people need. Or at least, it makes a good story."

"Promise me you'll take care of her."

"Of course." He answers without hesitation. There is a seriousness in his face even Hatori has rarely seen before. "If we're to survive in this world, we'll need to take as best care of each other as we can."

"That's uncharacteristically empathetic of you."

Shigure smiles. "I like to remain enigmatic."

**7**

In a dream, a black fog builds.

As the boy draws closer, he sees what he knows he will see: the black fog has four legs and a head, diamond sharp teeth shining in its open mouth as it takes long breathes of the air composing most of its body.

But the eyes are different than the boy expects. Not the orange of his own, or even the violet of the creature he's lived with for so long. They are the layered blue of a near-night sky, and a sprinkling of white flecks inside them radiate light through the deserted streets.

These same streets the creature dissassembles. This doesn't look like destruction; pieces come out into its strong hands, as evenly and easily as toy blocks. The creature piles these blocks onto each other, a staircase that pays no regard to gravity. In the empty space where blocks hang over air, roots of plants wave their roots, despite an absence of wind.

What are you building, thinks the boy. The creature doesn't answer. But as the boy watches, he understands.

The stairs grow higher and higher, the shadow half-walking, half-floating up the steps as it deposits each new block. The path is dirt and flowers and cracked asphalt, and looks more ancient and more alive than the boy has ever seen it. In the distance, houses have decayed and been reborn as mounds of green earth.

The stairs climb into a sky that no longer looks like a dome, but like a velvet blackness.

As it comes down from each step, the creature is bigger and less solid. Its mouth loses form, the white diamonds of its teeth migrating over its body, vivid white points amongst the dark. Soon the boy can't distinguish its legs, or the dazzling sharp of its claws. Only its eyes remain distinct, though they no longer look like eyes, on the creature that doesnít look like a creature, but a space of dark and light. And, the boy is startled to see, the space is beautiful.

The boy watches, entranced, for more time than he can measure.

With the last step, the creature touches the black of the sky and rises, until its own blackness is indistinguishable. The diamonds it held in its mouth and hands and eyes blink off and on in the night. Blue eyes provide the only hint of colour - so diluted by the black the boy can barely see it, but he knows it's there.

The boy sits at the base of the stairs and watches the stars.

end.

**Author's note: Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story and for sticking with it to the end. It means so much to me. I would be truly grateful if you would take a moment to let me know your thoughts on this piece. **

**Did you figure out who was sending the emails?**


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